


Dear Old Dad

by Herlilacskies



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abusive Sheriff Stilinski, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Ill add as i go, M/M, Mates, Mating, Mating Bites, Scott is a Bad Friend, Smut, nastiness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2019-07-29 05:44:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 25,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16257857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Herlilacskies/pseuds/Herlilacskies
Summary: Stiles is abused. Happy ending.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Un-beta'd.

Noah Stilinski has a drinking problem. It’s not speculation, it’s fact. Stiles knows this, he has scars and bruises as the evidence.   
At first it was just yelling, spewing insults, blaming Stiles for his Mother’s death, he brushed it off, but as it soon became everyday, whenever he was home—which isn’t a lot since Claudia’s death—it’s drilled into Stiles, he believes it. Then the apologies fade out of existence and the angry loathing visage on the Sheriff when he’s drunk stays on his face, even as he’s sober. Soon, whenever his gaze happens upon his son, his face sours, contorts to one Stiles now cowers in fear from. Terrified of the humiliation he would feel if anyone found out, he keeps quiet, but he wished someone would help, anyone.  
•••   
At the beginning Noah doesn’t remember; says he can’t recall, but that he’s so sorry, always begging for Stiles to forgive him. There’s something in the way he says it that irks Stiles the wrong way, but he looks at his Father, the man who raised him, puts on a false smile, wincing as it pulls at the bruise, which was from a slap—just a slap—on the left side of his face and says, “Of course Dad.”.  
•••  
Through the years he’s spent nearly half his time at Scott’s just to avoid the physical abuse, but mostly the verbal, it hurts more than a bruise or a broken bone.   
Scotty, the boy doesn’t know, he’s quite oblivious; an oblivious werewolf now. Melissa doesn’t know, at least Stiles doesn’t think she does, well, hopes is more accurate, but when he comes in to get himself looked at after a really bad day, she’ll look at him. He’ll feel so guilty and want to tell her everything, breakdown in her welcoming arms, he doesn’t. He lifts his chin up and smiles brightly, spewing lie after lie until he thinks she’s convinced.  
The thing that really struck him, made him realize his father wasn’t ever going to be the same again, was when Noah was drinking, as usual—it was the second anniversary of Claudia’s death. Stiles was thirteen, he came home after school, he was going to ask the Sheriff if they were going to her grave.  
•••  
He walked up the steps to the door and as he unlocked and opened the door in a hesitantly distracted manner, he yelled “Hey, Dad!” and asked “Are we goi—“ the question died on his tongue as his eyes landed on the empty bottle of whiskey hanging off the corner of the coffee table. His stomach dropped, thinking how stupid he was to think it would be different. Stiles’ doe-like eyes, widened in fear, shot to the couches—clear—then more slowly, hesitantly to the left, towards the dining room table.  
A man in jeans and a grey t-shirt, with scowling greenish-blue eyes sat—nearly chugging a bottle of beer—as his gaze shifts from the glass bottle’s label to Stiles’ terror stricken form.   
Cans and a few bottles littered the floor from the couch in front of the window in an almost trail to the table Noah sat at.   
Noah glowered back at his son for an eternity, which was really only a few terrifying seconds, but felt like ages till an eye roll from the Sheriff broke the eye contact. He finished the drink as Stiles debated whether to close the door and come further into his home, or hang out on the threshold and be ready to bolt to Scott’s. The Sheriff decides for him with a viscous growl of “Shut the damn door, Stiles.” hissing the last word.  
Stiles takes a few precious seconds to gather himself, steady his nerves, and prepare for whatever may come from his father, be it scathing words or painfully placed hits.   
He steps through the threshold onto the hard, wooden floor, his eyes down cast and a barely there tremor in fear of what’s to come, he never knows. He walks as slow as he can without actually dragging his feet to nearly a foot from the table adorned with empty cans and bottles, wondering if it’s all from today, thinking he should have just went to Scott’s, and knowing it’s gonna be bad.  
The Sheriff asks Stiles with a huff of cold, taunting laughter echoing through the empty house “What, did your puppy die?” mistaking his sons fearful demeanor for sadness, belittling his grief and terror.  
Stiles winces at his gruff and demeaning tone and mumbles “No, but my mom did.” as he fiddles with the hem of a black, Star Wars t-shirt.  
A chair sliding across the floor is what makes Stiles wince at the sound and warily look up, his father is up standing with hands flat on the table to steady his drunken state and teeth bared in a viscous snarl “What did you just say, boy?” his voice dripping venom, glaring daggers at his terrified son.  
The two stare at each other for a couple of seconds which could have been mistaken for hours before Noah growls out—somehow even more viscous “What. Did. You. Say. Stiles.” there’s so much venom and hatred on the last word, telling not asking.   
Stiles is terrified with so many scenarios running through his head, he surveys the dining room, and the kitchen counters, thinking good, no guns, I can handle this. Ticking a few situations off his mental list of abhorrent scenarios he turns to his father, putting away the sadness and fear to deal with when he’s alone, as he masks his visage he seems to become older, a whole other person from that terrified, and abused child hunched in on himself from a few seconds ago. Stiles takes a few confident steps toward his tormentor, hands now clutched to his backpack straps to ground him, he stops, nearly touching the brown, rectangular, wooden table for six. Stiles sets his hardened eyes on his monstrous father and answers “I said no, but my mother is dead. Your wife.” nearly emotionless except for the hatred seeping into his voice and his cold eyes boring every emphasis on his soured father and the viscous smirk curling his lips nearly snarling the last few words at the man radiating rage feet from him.  
In a matter of seconds chairs are being pushed to the side, along with the table being jostled so a drunk Sheriff can get his hands on his thirteen year old son.   
The Sheriff shouting out growls of “You killed her. You drove her to insanity. It’s your fault.” slurring most of the words.  
Beer cans and bottles, as well as larger bottles of whiskey and scotch, most empty, others still dripping from the mouthpiece, now getting knocked off in Noah’s drunken haste to get his hands on Stiles.  
Stiles stares at his father’s endeavor to reach him, contemplating what to do for a few seconds before shooting towards the door. He hears a loud crash from behind him, not seconds later his father’s rough and enraged hand is on his right leg, gripping and pulling the jeans Stiles wore. There’s a split second thought that he should have worn his red and black shorts before his jaw is hitting the hardwood floor, pain blossoming on the left side of his face and thinking that something definitely cracked or popped, then it all goes black, no more pain, no more anything.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just read.

Stiles woke up in a hospital room, hearing noisy monitors and with the sight of a white ceiling, and the smell of  _ clean _ . He turns his head and there’s a dull ache when he surveys the right side of his small room and the memories come flooding back. 

It’s a tad bit blurry but clear enough to know what happened, he looks out the window to his right, it’s daytime, he thinks so he must of been there a few hours _ ,  _ tomorrow’s Saturday so it’s all good, he’s good he concludes.

He tries to sit-up to do something, or find someone and is rewarded with an intense pain, he unceremoniously drops back down, hitting his chin on the pillow ow, it’s a pillow he whines internally in frustration and confusion. He closes his eyes and is mentally berating himself then he hears the door click.

He freezes as the steps near his bed, he prays it’s not his father, they’re getting closer on his right side, then nothing but beeping, then someone’s fiddling with something to his right. He lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, oh it’s just a nurse, he thinks thanking any deities out there.

He opens his eyes and sees Melissa McCall changing an IV bag or something, his stomach drops, questions circulating through his mind. Melissa glances at the heart monitor then with furrowed brows to stiles wide eyes looks back to the machines and does a double take, “Stiles.” she says a smile on her face.

She turns back to the bag and finishes then goes back to Stiles, false anger written all over her face, “ _ Stiles _ . You nearly gave me a heart attack when Noah brought you in.” Stiles stiffens up at the mention of his fathers name. Melissa—ever the observant one—notices his uneasiness, she puts her hand on his forearm and asks “Do you remember what happened?” she mistakes his discomfort for confusion.

He contemplates what to say and how to word it for a few seconds then answers “I do remember, but it’s a little bit blurry.” false confusion on his features and a tentative smile to curb any doubts, he finishes with “What did the Sheriff say happened?” he asks innocently.

Melissa seems to believe every word in a caring manner, “Well he came here at around four-ish in the morning, the—“ Stiles stomach drops at the  _ four-ish in the morning  _ and cuts Melissa off asking “Wait. When did he bring me in?” Melissa considers him a moment then answers warily “At around four in the morning.” then with even more concern “Wait, do you remember what I first said?” she questions.

Stiles is still reeling from the neglect of  _ himself _ , his own father left him unconscious on the cold, hardwood floor for somewhere around twelve hours, at least he knows it’s Saturday. He looks back up unaware that he’d looked down, he sees Melissa’s concerned face and answers her question “Yeah, yeah ‘course I do, I just—What did the Sheriff say happened?” he questions.

Mellissa eyes him for a moment then answers “Well, it was early around four as I said. Your Dad came in here, he looked pretty frantic, so I went over and he said you were in the Jeep. You know I always loved your mom's jeep, she ha—“ Stiles cut her off trying to get her back on track “What happened?” he asked softly since it’s the day after the anniversary. 

She seems to come back to herself “Yeah sorry, okay.”

Stiles rests his left hand over Melissa’s and reassures her with a sad smile “I know, we all miss her, she was the best.” he says in a soft voice.

Melissa looks at him with glistening eyes and says “ _ Stiles _ . You grew up too quick, kid. I should be the one comforting you.” She states in proud exasperation.

Stiles smiles wider and says seriously “I’m fine, Mel.” then more playfully in a purposefully horrible Spanish accent “Estoy  _ muy _ bien.” finishing with a little huff of laughter and a nonverbal request of a pat on the hand and nod of the head to help him sit-up.

After he’s adjusted he prompts her to continue with a nod and slight hand gesture. She nods and begins “ So where was I a—Ah yes, It was the Jeep. So your father brings us out to the Jeep saying ‘ _ he knocked himself out _ ,  _ he knocked himself out’ _ over and over. So they take you in and I tell them I’ve got the Sheriff, and he’s nearly to the Jeep when I find him. Says he’s gotten called in, I tell him _ ,  _

_ ‘no, your son is in there unconscious, tell me what happened’ _ , so he came back in, reluctantly.” she adds in frustration, confusion, and he thinks anger with her eyebrows pinched together “And told me. He said that he was called in for something, said he came out, saw you on the ground like you’d have fallen out the window, your lucky you only got a dislocated jaw and some cracked ribs. So he said you probably got your foot stuck in the gutter, came crashing to the side of the house and then fell to the ground.” her features become more serious and soft “I don’t know what I’d do Stiles. You and Scott, you’re all I’ve got. And your Dad.” she says eyes glistening once again.

Stiles as guilty as ever says “I know, I know, I’m sorry it won’t happen again,” he hopes.

She touches the right side of his face, her left thumb swiping a stray tear—not the first—that Stiles hadn’t noticed, or the watery eyes “It’s okay. Your family Stiles, just be careful, take care of yourself. Okay?” she asks as she wipes away a few tears of her own.

“Ye—“ his voice cracks with emotion “Yeah, okay, I’ll do that. Be more careful. I know you care and worry. Your family.” he gives her a watery smile.

Melissa moves both her hands to her lap, and straightens up and says “Well enough of these  _ feelings _ . Come on, we’re happy people, Right?” dispersing the sad and bleak air and welcoming a happy cheery one.

“Right” he punctuates with an affirmative nod.

Stiles looks over her shoulder out the window, he absently asks “What time is it?” he then looks to Melissa then back out the window.

She glances at her watch and answers with “ Well...It’s just about one-thirty.” she finishes with a smile.

Stiles just absently nods along to her voice then ceases all movements when her words finally register,  _ one-thirty _ , thinking no, Mellissa comes in at like five or six on Saturday. That’s not right, what day is it? 

“No it’s right, a little past one-thirty and it’s uh…Sunday, yepe, Sunday.” she states nodding along to her her words.

Stiles stares at her in shock and slight embarrassment then registers what she’s said “ Wait, what day did he bring me in?” he asks for clarification.

She thinks it over for a few tantalizing seconds then states “This morning. At around four.” Stiles stiffens in shock and confusion.

Stiles looks at Melissa and says “So. Today is Sunday. The Sheriff brought me in like what, nine hours ago?” his brows furrowed in confusion.

Melissa considers him a moment then nods her head stating “Yes, that’s all true. Are sure you’re not forgetting things?” she asks voice filled with concern.

Stiles stores that information away for later to go over and smiles brightly wiping away the nurse's concern saying “Come on, it’s just for clarification. Just you know, clarifying facts.” shock and confusion gone from his voice, then adding “So I’ve been asleep since I came in?” in curiosity.

Melissa looks around gathering her thoughts then says “Well you were really out of it. For the most part you were unresponsive, but you would open your eyes or mumble something, which was good. But yeah, mostly just slept.” In the clinical voice of a nurse.

Stiles looks down at his hands that are fiddling with a loose string on the hospital blanket bunched up at his waist and mumbles “I don’t remember waking up though.” thankful that he didn’t have a concussion.

“Wait, do I have a concussion?” he asks rethinking his previous thought.

She responds “Thankfully no.” with a smile on her face.

His eyes return to his lap, just thinking, then asks “When do I get out of here?” needing to get to his room and backpack and get his shit together.

She looks from the window to stiles awaiting face a smile making its way on her face “Hey!” she nudges his arm playfully “I’m not that bad.” she finishes with a raised brow.

Stiles rolls his eyes “You know what I mean.” he lightly smacks at Melissa’s arm in a playful manner.

“I know, I know.” she says with a huff of laughter at his antics and adds “Yeah, but your Dad should be here soon. I told him to come at two, so...give or take fifteen minutes.” nodding along to the last few words then glancing at her watch once again and saying “I should be on my way then.” she looks back to stiles guiltily.

Stiles holds up his hands “Go, go. I’m good.” then adds in a teasing manner “I’ve had enough McCall for one day.” now making shooing motions at the eldest McCall.

Once the door clicked shut he continued to stare at it for a few more seconds before turning to the right and looking out the window the only thing running through his head is that his father, the Sheriff of Beacon Hills left his only son unconscious on the floor for nearly two days. He let the tears come out of frustration and anger and sadness, he didn’t even get to visit his mom. 

Melissa came in scowling with Stiles clothes in hand “Where’s the Sheriff?” Stiles asked in confusion. Her face sours “He’s  _ busy _ , I’m taking you home.” then when she reaches his side with her thoughts elsewhere she says absently in a stern voice “Put these on.” then goes over to the window looking out over the parking lot, arms crossed and biting her thumbnail. 

After he’s pulled on the last item from the bag, he turns to Melissa and mistaking her anger and annoyance for the Sheriff with him he apologetically says “Melissa, you don’t have to take me home, I could find a bus or walk.” he noticeably gulps as Melissa turns around and seems to grow even more outraged.

Stiles looks down and begins to hunch in on himself when Melissa says softly “Stiles, look at me. I’m not mad at you, your father just—ugh. I’m not happy with him right now. I would never make you walk or take a bus home, I’m driving you home. Come on, vamos.” she has a bright smile by the end.

Stiles waves at Melissa as she drives off and back to the hospital, he goes to the door, it’s unlocked, he turns the knob and pushes, he knows Noah isn’t home, his cars not here, but he still exercises caution. He steps in the living room and closes the door, he surveys as far as he can see, no cans or bottles litter the floor, his eyes land on his backpack half way under the coffee table. He grabs his bag, quietly goes up the stairs and to the right, then goes into his room, he sets his bag next to his desk and turns to go lay in his bed. He stops when he sees something on his bed, there’s a horribly folded and slightly crumpled paper that says  _ Jeep _ and  _ Happy 18th Stiles  _ in his mother’s hand writing, under it are keys—to the Jeep. To keep his mouth shut is running through his head as he sets the keys and paper on his desk and goes to his bed to sleep.

  * ••



Stiles doesn’t say Dad or father, if Noah is for some odd reason brought up in conversation, he is strictly referred to as Sheriff or Noah, no one catches on so it’s all good. The Sheriff doesn’t go to conferences and Stiles forges his signature when need be, he’s very clever. 

The only time he interacts with his father is when he’s dealing with werewolf issues or if the Sheriff catches him  _ interfering  _ with a case—usually werewolf matters. When he caught him in the forest it was bad, he showed up to school with bruises that he hid well. 

Stiles is laying on his bed thinking over the last couple of months, the werewolves, the supernatural, everything he now knows. In the back of his head there’s a nagging voice reminding him of the wolves enhanced senses, telling him they should know, they should know he’s in pain. 

Stiles is happy no one knows, if they found out, he doesn’t know what he’d do, he’d be so embarrassed. Being surrounded by supernatural creatures would make it even worse, he thinks they already see him as weak, if they knew, he couldn’t handle the humiliation. He could deal with the Sheriff’s torment, but not the rejection from Derek or his pack, to be looked down upon by Scott, no.

  * ••



He’s sitting on the tile floor of his bedroom’s adjoining bathroom against the shower, his clothes still sopping wet, some parts a little stiff from drying, with his head tilted back against the glass and eyes closed in thought, listening to the droplets of water hit the tile. All the adrenaline from the nights events seeping from his pores, leaving him a wet, bone-tired mess. He wants to cry, to scream about what happened, what could have happened. He’s thankful the Sheriffs not here. Why had he gone in the pool anyways, oh yeah your stupid—and irrational he might add—crush. Why did he let go? For a phone. Where was Scott? He was probably with Allison, or even better budding with Jackass. He doesn’t even care, Scott isn’t even a good friend. What if he hadn’t gotten to Derek in time? Derek must hate him. What if Derek thought Stiles was gonna leave him for dead? What if the Kanima wasn’t scared of the water? What if—.

His rambling, worrying, and irrational thoughts were cut off by a clacking on his window. He shifted his head, eyes now open and trained on the closed curtains, and ears trained on the noise behind it, repeating itself once again. He stays there another second, then gets up with an  _ oof _ , is he light headed? He feels a little dizzy, is he shaking, is that shivering, he walks to the window. He doesn’t feel that cold, he thinks to himself as he pulls the curtains back to reveal two red eyes, it doesn’t phase him. He just stares until his eyes adjust, oh, Derek he thinks, cool, very cool. 

Stiles opens the window, letting the now dry—unlike himself—werewolf in, he steps back nearly sitting on his bed before he remembers the wet squelchiness, so he just stands there, inches from Derek while he climbs in like a pro.

Once he’s in he does a once over of the room,  _ possible escapes _ , Stiles thinks to himself, lip quirking. Then the impossibly too hot to be real—Stiles’ words—Alpha’s eyes land on him, actually a really pretty green color now, then they’re red and there’s growling and words. Derek’s trying to say something “...off.” Stiles just stares in a confused haze.

Derek’s shuffling into his space growling “Clothes off. Now.” without room for argument. Stiles hears that loud and clear, he’s stripping in seconds. Why? He doesn’t know, he doesn’t feel good, it’s not his fault, now that he thinks about it, he is a little cold.

He has his shoes off, after peeling his shirt and jacket off—literally—now reaching for his jeans, insecurities setting in, Derek is all werewolf, muscley hotness and Stiles is just scrawny, weak Stiles. Derek growls in response to the smell slowly permeating the room, staring at the beautiful man in front of him, his mole dotted chest.

Derek growls out “Now.” barely containing the Wolf desperately wanting to comfort his pack mate, his Mate, his Wolf thinks, purring like a cat in satisfaction at the acknowledgment.

Stiles looks up to Derek’s glowing eyes then to his button, then shrugs, but he’s shaking he realizes, so bad he can’t undo his jeans. In an instant there’s a very hot, very close werewolf moving his hands and tugging at his jeans. Once they’re undone he leaves Stiles to pull them down, once Stiles is back up there’s a pair of his boxers in Derek’s hand, now being shoved at his chest.

“Okay, okay, SourWolf.” Stiles mutters slurring his words slightly to the tremors racking his body. Stiles starts pulling down his boxers, this time not even caring if Derek sees, but as soon as Derek realizes what he’s doing he quickly turns around giving Stiles privacy, but not so much space-wise. Stiles heart flutters at the gesture.

“D O N E” Stiles spells out, his lips trembling and fiddling with the hem of his boxers self consciously.

Derek turns to Stiles and growls out “Bed. Now.” as he goes to take his shoes off.

Stiles mutters “Well that wasn’t sexual at all.” still a bit slurred with his trembling breaths as he climbs under the covers on the right side of the bed.

Derek’s heart stutters in his chest as he starts on his top, he takes off his jacket and hangs it on the back of Stiles computer chair, then pulls off his t-shirt and throws it in the pile with his jeans and shoes by his nightstand, nearly under his bed. Then his pants are off and Yepe, Stiles knew it, he wears briefs. Derek says “I have a few pairs of boxers at the loft.” huffing a small laugh as he climbs under the covers.

Stiles, after a few more dazed seconds registers what Derek just said, well that’s embarrassing he thinks as he turns red, embarrassment and humiliation permeating the wolf’s nostrils. 

Derek snuggles up to Stiles side, trying to warm up his boy, his Mate. Stiles was still trembling and huffing out uneven breaths trying to inch closer to the werewolf heater to his right so Derek says “Side.” and lets go of Stiles so he can turn.

As soon as he turns there’s a hot werewolf—literally and figuratively—plastered to his back, Stiles snuggles back and slowly the coldness is replaced by warmth and Stiles slowly comes out of his hazey daze. 

He stiffens. Hot werewolf hands wrapped around his front. He’s in his boxers. Derek’s in his briefs, but he could have worn boxers he thinks, embarrassment bubbling. Derek’s hot breath on the back of Stiles neck, it’s really doing things to Stiles, he really hopes it’s not as far as smell-wise. 

Derek notices and inches closer to whisper “Stiles. What is it?” in his’ ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

Stiles voices his thoughts “Hot werewolf in my bed. Snuggling me? We’re nearly naked pressed up against each other.” he ends it with a huff of frustration. 

Derek feels bad, making his Mate feel uncomfortable was not his intention. He removes his hands, sits up and once Stiles has turned around he says “It was never my intention to make you uncomfortable. I’m sorry. Wo—“ he’s cut off by Stiles flailing arms as his sits up.

Stiles is confused,  _ uncomfortable _ , he isn’t uncomfortable, he’s more than comfortable against the werewolf, so he interrupts Derek’s words with flailing hands while he sits up. He says “No, no, no. I’m not  _ uncomfortable _ , okay?” then mutters more to himself “So far from that.” and continues “I’m just wary of your…” he searches for the right words, then recalls Derek’s words and continues “...intentions. Yes. Intentions. What are your intentions, here, big guy? Why’d you get me nearly naked in bed?” he ends with raised eyebrows.

Derek is distraught, he’d never take advantage of Stiles. Stiles realizes how that sounded and remembers Kate and everything Derek has been through, and yeah, that sounded like taking advantage of him. Stiles rushes out “I didn’t mean it like that!” with slight flailing of his hands the same moment Derek says “I would never.” he stares at Stiles and registers what he said. He asks “What do you mean?” a smell of hurt and embarrassment, confusing Derek. Stiles then asks “What do  _ you  _ mean?” with more raised eyebrows, trying to hide the hurt from Derek’s previous statement. Of course he’d never touch Stiles, he’s ugly, weak, and disgusting.

Derek recalls his statement, what was wrong with it? He’d never take advantage of Stiles, he has to know that, ooooh, he thinks. Finally he realizes why Stiles is hurt, he thinks he’d never touch him. Derek says with a smile “I meant I’d never take advantage of you, Stiles. You have to know that.” he finishes with imploring eyes.

Stiles looks up at Derek, hope blossoming, but he stops that before it gets ahead of itself so he’s quick to reassure “I know Derek, I really do. I didn’t mean it, well, the way it came out. You’d never do that to anyone.” and mutters bitterly to himself looking at his hands “Especially not me.” then looks back up to Derek’s pretty eyes, they’re really pretty, he thinks to himself, then sees Derek’s mouth moving. He tunes in and Derek’s saying “Thank you.” with a slight blush and smirk. Stiles is going to die, he wished the bed would just swallow him up. He lays back down in embarrassment and frustration pulling the covers over himself to hide his face as he groans out “Can we pretend I have a brain to mouth filter and didn’t just say that?” he asks in humiliation.

Derek smirks, then it softens to a smile at his Mate’s antics. Mate, he should tell Stiles. That their Mates, but, what if he doesn’t want him? What then? What if he thinks that he’s just saying that so he can get in bed with him? That he’s taking advantage of him, no, he said he knew he’d never take advantage of him. His heartbeat was steady. 

Stiles uncovers his face, peeking out at the unnerving silence and sees Derek deep in thought, a frown drawn on his face. He knocks his knee against Derek’s and asks “What's on your mind, big guy?” actually wanting to know what’s got him so distressed.

Derek turns to him and smiles, his bunny teeth showing, Derek is incredibly adorable Stiles thinks to himself. Derek says “I have to tell you something.” with searching eyes.

Stiles sits up at the seriousness in his tone and asks him to continue with a wave of his hand.

Derek searches Stiles eyes thinking if he doesn’t do this right now he will forever regret it, and probably won’t try again, and see Stiles with other people. He decides to not say Mates right away, as to not scare him off, so he places a hand on the humans wrist, Stiles looks down then back up, wariness emanating from him. Derek says plainly “I like you. A lot.” with imploring eyes.

Stiles eyes are wide in fear and humiliation, he rips his hand out of Derek’s hold and glares at Derek. Then he starts laughing, if Derek wants to be an asshole, he’ll just laugh it off, pretend he feels nothing, go along with the cruel joke. Then he focuses after laughing so hard and Derek’s not in front of him, or even on the bed, he’s got both shoes on now heading for the window. 

Stiles flails out of bed—nearly falling out—to stop Derek from leaving saying “Derek wait!” and then rethinking that maybe Derek was telling the truth he asks “Der—“ but is cut off by a growl. Derek turns from the window, he looks completely shut down, Stiles heart sinks at the look on his face, remembering the smile just moments ago. Derek growls out “Don’t.” his red eyes flashing. It doesn’t phase Stiles as he says “But—“ and is cut off once again by Derek’s “Stiles.” slurred by his elongated fangs, Stiles shuts up at the infuriated Alpha’s tone, the hurt in his voice, wanting so badly to comfort Derek. Then before he can even blink, Derek’s out the window. Shit. He fucked up. He  _ really _ fucked up this time. Shit. Shit. Shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading kids.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here.

It’s school. Today. He has to go to school, he thinks as he turns off his alarm. He pulls the blanket over his face and groans, soon it turns into a whine at his sore muscles. That’s what you get for saving a werewolf’s life. He uncovers his face and stares at the ceiling for a few moments, then sits up. And Yepe. That’s Derek’s leather jacket on his desk chair. Shit. Did he forget and not comeback out of embarrassment or anger? Did h—his rambling thoughts were put to an end as an idea was slowly starting to form in his head as a smirk curled his lips. 

If Derek wants his leather jacket back, he’s gonna have to come to him. But he’s gonna have to keep it on him wherever he goes. Not  _ on him _ on him, but like in a bag. He’ll stuff it in his back back, see if the betas try and do something in school. What if he tells the betas to get it from hi—No. He needs to stop worrying and wait for his plan to work itself out. 

Stiles gets dressed and carefully folds and places the jacket in his backpack. He’s grateful none of his classes really use the books, he just hopes today isn’t one of those rare days, he would be really fucked though.

He opens his door, mindful of the creak if it’s opened too wide, and looks down the hall to the Sheriff’s—thankfully—closed door. He goes down the stairs, mindful again of the spots that will creak if stepped on, he avoids those, obviously. He’s nearly to the door when he hears a door creak open, seconds later he’s in his Jeep and on the road, trying not to have a panic attack. Nope. It’s not working, none of it, things he’s used plenty of times have no affect. He has to pull over into a grocery store’s parking lot because his visions blurring, he sits there, trying to breath, to get through it for what feels like ages. 

He finally regulates his breathing and his visions more clear, a bit watery, but able to see to continue driving. He looks at the time. Okay. That was a long one.

On his way to school he mentally berates himself, for wasting away his first two hours, sometimes voicing his self-deprecating thoughts. He has enough time to get there before third hour it’s all good. He’s all good. Everything’s fan-fucking-tastic. Just dandy.

He arrives during passing time and is in his seat by the time the minute bell rings. He swipes at his persperated forehead, mentally letting out a hoo wee as he feels someone sit next to him. No one sits next to him in this class. He has no friends in this class, or any really, he adds bitterly to himself. He turns and yepe, it’s Isaac. With a leather jacket. Maybe Derek doesn’t even need his back.

Issac—after twenty minutes of awkward and tense silence while listening to the teacher— finally turns to Stiles and acknowledges his existence. He inches closer, Stiles stiffening at the movement hears him whisper “Derek wants his jacket back.” as he not-so-subtly sniffs, nostrils flaring when he gets a strong wave of Stiles&Derek, Alpha and Mate. Before he knows it he’s shoved his face in the crook of Stiles neck and is inhaling their mingled scents of family and pack.

Stiles is frozen, eyes wide and mouth closed in a tight line, as his neck is ravaged. People are looking. Someone coughs to his left and then the teacher is asking “Isaac, are you okay?” In awkward concern.

Isaac freezes, he removes his face from Stiles throat and awkwardly sits up straighter back in his seat, head down in shame at his actions with eyes trained on his hands fiddling around on his lap as he says in a raw voice “Yeah. Yeah, I'm good.” but still feeling satiated from the scent.

After the teacher had turned and most of the students have stopped staring he whisper yells in incredulous astonishment “Did you just  _ scent _ me?!?” he turns his head to gauge Isaac’s reaction. Puppy eyes, why does everyone have puppy eyes? 

Isaac stutters out in a whisper of shame “I—I didn’t—I didn’t mean to. I’m really s—s—sorry Stiles. Please forgive me. Y—you just smelled so  _ good _ and Alpha&Mate. I don’t know what came over me. You guys smell like family and pack together. I just—I couldn’t resist. My wolf couldn’t.” he ends with a small whimper and adds “I really am sorry.” he looks down in shame at the end, looking like a kicked puppy.

Okay. Isaac is  _ adorable _ . Alpha and Mate. Wha—oh. Mate. He had watched a documentary on wolves and remembers some bit about wolves and mating for life, but, that can’t be what Isaac is talking about. But Derek was super distressed? when he left, so who knows? He’ll just have to wait till he comes for the jacket.

Stiles whispers with a reassuring smile “It’s okay pup.” not realizing the pet name came out, but just trudging through the slight embarrassment when Isaac looks up and beams at the nickname. He continues “It’s alright, all is forgiven, and maybe a little warning next time. Just—“ he glances at the teacher, paying no attention to them and gets a little closer and continues “What did you mean, about Mate?” he asks, hope blossoming.

“Oh.” Isaac says then continues “Stiles, I don’t think Derek—“ But is cut off by Stiles frustrated whisper yell of “Don’t worry about what Derek said, I’m his Mate apparently.” not even asking, already knowing.

Isaac flinches back at the harsh tone, then hears “ _ Lovers quarrel _ .” to Stiles left and growls.

Stiles grabs Isaac’s hands where claws have popped out and tries to calm him, nothing’s working, the words, breathing, nothing. So he thinks fuck it and just turns to him fully and grabs Isaac’s face, placing it in the crook of his neck, with the whole class looking once again. Shit.

This time the teacher coughs awkwardly and asks “Stiles? Do you guys need to...see a counselor?” more confusion and concern than irritation in their voice.

Isaac freezes, Stiles says “Nope. We’re all good here.” then continues petting Isaac’s curls whispering “It’s okay pup. It’s okay.” Isaac takes a few final whiffs and pulls back and says “Thank you.” mindful of the few eyes still trained on their interaction.

Stiles looks up to what the teachers talking about while he says “No problem, just… tell me about Mates.” he ends with a firm tone, leaving no room for discussion.

Isaac puts his head down submissively and nods asking “Could we do it after class, at lunch? We have like twenty minutes or so and Boyd and Erica probably know way more than me.” he ends with pleading eyes.

Stiles turns to pleading puppy dog eyes and his heart melts,  he mutters out “Fine, pup.” with faux annoyance. Isaac smiles, a small yet, blinding smile.

As the bell rings Isaac asks “Won’t you be sitting with Scott?” slightly afraid of the answer.

Stiles pulls his bag on top of the desk, closes his eyes and sighs stating “I stopped sitting with Scott days? Weeks ago? Who knows?.” then more to himself “I don’t think he’s even noticed I’m gone, to be honest.” then lifts his head to look at Isaac. He has the puppy dog eyes. Jesus. Christ.

Isaac says “I really wanna hug you.” then as the last few students leave he asks “Can I hug you?” with a concerned voice.

Stiles rolls his eyes and says “Sure pup.” then adds more playfully “Come and smother yourself in my heavenly scent.” then he’s being hugged, fiercely. He likes hugs, he decides. The last person to hug him was...Melissa and that was...years ago? Maybe, but that was only if it was a real bad incident, physically. But he likes them.

After some patting on the back from Stiles and a fierce grip from Isaac there’s a cough, then a “Mr. Stilinski. Mr. Lahey. You’re going to be late to lunch.” they then pull apart.

They begin gathering their things and Isaac says “I’m sorry.” Stiles almost screams at him. 

He says “Isaac, listen to me.” once Isaac looks up Stiles continues “I never want you to be sorry...for what? Comforting a friend. Pack?” he questions, unsure if he’s pack or like pack adjacent. A quick and decisive nod from Isaac has Stiles continue “There’s nothing wrong with that.” he says standing and swinging his backpack over his right shoulder and adding “I enjoyed it. It’s been a while since someone’s hugged me that fiercely.” he finishes by walking towards the door and waiting.

Isaac grabs his bag and throws it over both shoulders then he’s walking over with pinched brows as he asks “But what about your dad?” confusion lacing his tone.

Stiles scent sours, but just as fast as it came it was gone and Stiles was grinning like a madman as he asks “Aren’t Erica and Boyd waiting on us?” turning around and heading for the cafeteria.

Isaac smelled the acrid scent coming from the boy the fear, the anger, the hurt, and so many others he couldn’t name. At the mention of his father. The Sheriff. But the Sheriff wouldn’t do that. Then Isaac thinks of his own father, his tormentor, he was a good guy to the public, a great coach. The pain caused, emotional and physical, he lets out a whine at the thought of Stiles in a situation like that. As he follows Stiles to the cafeteria he decides he’s going to try and talk to Stiles and if it doesn’t work he’ll tell Derek.

Once they’re seated with their lunch, Stiles stares at the only thing they had left. A fucking vegan burger. And it’s not even edible. His vegan burgers are in fact edible and good. The schools vegan burgers are appalling, he gags at the thought of eating it. Then his food is being pulled away and there’s a tupperware being pushed in front of him.

Stiles looks up to find Boyd looking at him expectantly. He looks at the other two, who also have tupperwares, they've each got like three, well now Boyd only has two. He looks down at the one Boyd passed to him, then looks back up to Boyd. Boyd says “Eat.” in a calm tone with no room for argument and begins opening his tupperware.

Stiles just sits there, thinking about how Scott would laugh at him for running late and never give him food. He’s in awe at the gesture. When he looks back up on the table there are two more tupperwares in front of him, he looks up at them only to realize that Erica is right next to him—how did he not notice—and Boyd has just scooted directly in front of him. Now Stiles has three and the others have two, he’s so happy right now, he feels so lucky to have the pups in his life, although he needs to build the relationships more, this is a much better start. Although the first incidents were not friendly, they were very hostile. Now everything feels different, probably because he doesn’t reek of Scott any more. But he knows they won’t hurt him, he feels safe and supported by them. He’s just so damn happy, no one's been this nice to him. He knows it’s just some food but the kindness in the gesture warms his heart.

He looks up and voices his thoughts “You guys don’t understand how happy this makes me. I know it’s just food, but. What can I say, I’ve been deprived of niceties.” he ends with a shrug of his shoulders. The pups on either side of him inch closer and then there’s a face in the crook of his neck inhaling. Okay, he thinks, is everyone gonna want a turn?

Erica pulls back quicker than Isaac did with her eyes wide and downcast in shame with eyebrows pinched in confusion, she mutters out in confused astonishment “I’m sorry, I—I don’t know what came over me.” she says eyes trained on her lap as a blush paints her cheeks.

Stiles is quick to reassure her “Come on pup.” Erica’s eyes lift up and their brighter as he continues “Don’t be sorry. It’s the smell.” she nods along not quite understanding what he means but still following along, from the conversation she heard between Isaac and Stiles she gets the gist of it.

He begins to open his tupperware and there’s so much. There’s chicken, steak, shrimp, and roasted orange, red and yellow bell peppers with mushrooms in the green one, the biggest one. In the yellow one there’s like two pastas, some mashed potatoes, and  _ curly fries _ ! all sectioned off, holy hell, how is he gonna eat all this? The orange one is the smallest with five chocolate chip cookies, some kind of oatmeal cookies, two big squares of brownie, and pie? And it all looks homemade. Holy shit this is his new family.

He voices his thoughts “I literally love you all. You are my new family. Adopt me?” he says as he begins to dig in. With food still in his mouth he says “Holy fuck this is heaven.” After finishing his bite of pasta he says “I’m having a foodgasm. Who made this?” finally looking at them. He notices that they’ve just barely started eating.

Erica smirks and says “Well, me and Isaac helped with the cooking, and Boyd helped with the baking.” then shoving a spoonful of mashed potatoes in her mouth.

Stiles smiles at the words as he shoves a bite of apple pie in his mouth then asks absently “What do you mean helped?” then moaning like a bitch in heat at the pie’s deliciousness.

Isaac says “Derek made everything. He takes care of us. We all basically live there, I mean we’ve all got rooms in the building.” then looking between Boyd and Erica he says “Whether we use them or not. I mean, I live there. After the whole abusive father debacle, Derek insisted on being listed as my guardian. So he takes care of me.” he finishes with a chunk of steak and some bell peppers shoved in his mouth. 

The entire time Isaac was talking Stiles was sitting there in awe with a huge genuine smile on his face thinking of how proud he was of Derek, and how adorable he is even more so that he cooks for everyone. He’s such a great Alpha. Then he goes to put an orange bell pepper in his mouth and remembers the reason he’s even here in the first place. He says “So...that Mate thing.” he doesn’t really asks just puts it out there.

Erica glares at Isaac and starts to say “Stiles, I really don’t think that—“ But is cut off by Stiles’ “So help me Erica…” he looks at Erica in question, after an embarrassed mutter of “Maria.” in a spanish accent Stiles continues his rant “Erica Maria Reyes if the next word in that sentence is Derek...So help me...I will…” he searches for a threat, anything, he lamely finishes with “I won’t return your Alphas jacket.” trying and failing to be confident and proud of his threat and failing miserably. That was terrible, Derek could just buy another.

Erica looks to Isaac and Boyd and mutters “Yeah, if he wears it.” still loud enough for Stiles to catch it.

Stiles splutters in confusion and asks “So wait, I’m confused. Do guys want me to give you the jacket or not?” he finishes by taking a big bite of one of the brownies and moaning.

Isaac laughs, but Erica full on cackles, while Boyd tries to hide a small smile. Isaac sobers up and says “You should wear it.” he says matter of factly and then grabs Stiles’ backpack and grabs the leather jacket, he holds it out to Stiles and says “Put it on. Now.” brooking no room for argument.

Stiles sets down the two soft chocolate chip cookies he was gonna shove down his throat and dusts off his hands on his jeans and then on his flannel for good measure. He then takes the jacket, holding it gently as if it’d break, he looks at the pack with imploring yet wary eyes as he asks “I don’t think D—“ But is cut off by Erica’s growl of “I swear if you say  _ I don’t think Derek would like/want/whatever this _ I will tell Derek you wanted to set his jacket on fire and leave it at his door.” she finishes with a harsh glare.

Stiles stares and then hits Erica’s arm with the back of his hand and whisper shouts “Erica! I would never do that. That’s so fucked up. Derek knows I’d never—Shit, he probably thinks I don’t like him right now.” he finishes with bitter thoughts invading his mind.

Erica shoulder bumps Stiles to get rid of the nasty scent coming from him and says “If you show up at the loft wearing his jacket he’ll get the message. Loud and clear.” nodding along to her own words with raised eyebrows then adding “So...put it on.” she finishes with an encouraging pat to the back.

Stiles says “Well, if you insist.” and starts putting on Derek’s jacket as the wolves start growling, once it’s completely on the growling has gotten louder. He turns to where the betas are glaring and it’s Scott walking over with a scowl on his face.

Scott stands at the end of the table glaring at the growling betas and then brings his eyes to Stiles and growls out “Why aren’t you at our table?” then sniffing his eyes go wide and he splutters “Why do you smell like Derek? Are you  _ wearing _ his  _ jacket _ ? Stiles! Why are you wearing his jacket?” demanding an answer, the self entitled ass hole.

Stiles feels self conscious for all of a second before Boyd—sensing his distress—growls out “Leave. Now.” his fangs threatening to elongate if Scott makes the wrong move.

Scott inevitably will make the wrong move so to avoid expulsions and exposures he says “Everyone.” looking at Boyd and Scott, in a commanding tone he continues once their eyes are on him “You all need to calm down.” he states, glancing at the two on either side of him, with popped out claws they’re trying to hide in their lap. He then turns to Scott and plasters a big fake cheerful smile and says “Scotty boy, I haven’t sat at—“ he uses air quotes for his next words “— _ our table _ in weeks. And I honestly don’t think you cared or even noticed.” he ends with a bitter laugh.

Scott stares then stutters out “I—I noticed. I just thou—“ But his shitty lie is cut off by all three betas growling at Scott. Stiles realizes they’re starting to get some stares and quickly says “Come on pups, calm down.” after they seem satiated he looks at Scott with a blank, neutral mask and says “Scott, I don’t have the slightest clue as to why your here, riling up my betas. I would very much so appreciate it if you would leave.” he then adds “Immediately.” at Scott’s blank stare.

Scott sputters and mutters to himself “Your betas?” then to Stiles, louder this time “Your betas? Who do you think you are? Their  _ Alpha _ ? Ha!” he says actually laughing.

Stiles starts to go into himself until there’s a hand on his arm and Isaac’s on his back as Erica says “No, but close enough.” then adds “At least he has a pack, unlike some people.” she says eyes boring into Scott’s thick skull.

Scott’s growls and says matter of factly “Stiles is my pack.” he says it with such confidence it’s funny.

More growling. Stiles sits straighter and says incredulously “Scott, and I don’t know if you’ll be able to get this through your thick skull, but we haven’t even really been friends. For awhile now. So pack? I’m more friendly with Erica over here and she hit me with a car battery. Recently.” he's quick to discourage any apologies by adding “Which I completely and totally forgive her for.” knocking his knee against hers in comfort. 

Scott tried to say something, but before he says a thing Stiles says “That means leave. Now.” he finishes with a finality in the tense air.

Scott fumes, but ultimately decides correctly this time, he turns with a huff and a mutter of something atrocious—if the beta’s intensified growls say anything—and leaves the table. With his absence so goes the unwanted and prying eyes of students.

Stiles turns back to his barely finished food and grabs a big spoonful of potatoes and states “So. Mates.” with a bright cheerful smile as he swallows the orgasmic potatoes.

Erica sighs and says “Yes, yes, yes. We know. We already got you started with the scent part.” she ends it with another fake mournful sigh while shoving some oatmeal cookies in her mouth.

Stiles sputters and says “What do you  _ mean _ ? You haven’t explained anything to me. You just said show up to the loft with his jacket on! I want you to explain Mates. The aspects, the relationship. Everything. I don’t want to walk in clueless.” he finishes by sucking in a lungful breath of air.

Erica’s lip stretch into a viscous smirk and says “Oh, little fox.” with a false pitiful voice then continues “That’s exactly what we’re hoping for.” she finishes by shoving a forkful of pasta into her mouth.

Stiles rubs at the bridge of his nose then looks at the three of them and says “So you want me to not know anything for what purpose?” he says wincing in preparation at Erica’s returned smirk.

Erica laughs a bubbly bright laugh as pieces of brownie splatter across the table, narrowly missing Boyd’s dish. Her laughs turn to chuckles, then she’s beaming as she says “It’s gonna be so awkward and stilted. It’ll be so adorable. Derek’s gonna explain it. I sure as hell wasn't listening. Derek  _ knows _ this stuff, that’s how he knew it was you.” she finishes with a nudge to his shoulder and a slurp of her water.

Stiles clarifies by asking “So you’re not gonna tell me anything?” with a nod from Erica he asks “And I’m gonna ask Derek to tell me about Mates and he’ll just tell me?” another nod from Erica and he says “Sure. Fine. Whatever. The end goals all the same.” then shovels some shrimp, bell peppers and mushrooms into his mouth all at once.

Stiles then asks in curiosity “Why...How are you guys so...informed?” he finishes wincing at his terrible wording. After a few shrugs he adds “I was so sure at least Isaac was gonna tell me something, but then all of you have somehow agreed that Derek’s gonna awkwardly tell me about Mates.” he finishes with a shrug and a big chunk of steak in his mouth. Mmmm. He loves juicy steak, he is literally in heaven.

Erica huffs a laugh and taps her ears as she takes a bite out of her last oatmeal cookie—cinnamon he found out recently.

Oh. They were listening in on the conversation and probably whispering their evil plans to each other right under his nose, probably while he was moaning over all of the food.

While stuffing some curly fries in her mouth she says “I really am sorry. About you know—“ Stiles cuts her off with a “Erica! I said I forgave you.” she nods and says “I know. I just wanted to say it.” she ends with a shy shrug of her shoulders, almost looking like the sick girl she once was. Stiles slaps at her arm playfully and says “Come on pup, lighten up.” Erica preens at the pet name.

  * ••



After they all mostly finished and packed up the containers and drinks in a separate backpack, they decide that Erica is riding with Boyd in his truck, purchased by Derek—after lots of arguing. And Isaac will text Derek that he’s getting a ride from a friend, and Stiles will show up with Isaac.

  * ••



After they’ve all said see you soon and Boyd and Erica have sped off to the loft Isaac and Stiles climb in the Jeep. Stiles after a few minutes breaks the comfortable silence he glances at Isaac then back to the road and says “So. They’re a couple right?” hoping they are, as soon as he saw Derek’s freshly turned betas he was like shipshipshipshipship with Erica and Boyd.

Isaac looks at him and smiles brightly stating “Actually, they’re Mates.” then returns to looking out at the road ahead.

He sputters and stares at Isaac for a few seconds too long if Isaac’s squawk of “Stiles! The road!” meant anything, Stiles quickly readjusted the wheel so as to avoid the SUV on the other side of the road.

“Well. That was fun.” Stiles states with both hands gripping the steering wheel and eyes trained on the road in front of them.

“Yeah. Fun.” Isaac agrees letting out an incredulous huff of air, shaking his head at Stiles wording with a relieved smile on his face.

Isaac starts thinking about his plan and asks “About your father?” eyes, nose and ears trained on Stiles.

Stiles vice grip on the steering wheel turns his knuckles white at Isaac’s words, he considers it, and glances at Isaac and his puppy dog eyes. Fuck. He thinks of everything he’s been through, with his dad. His father abused him too. Then thinks why he hadn’t thought to talk to Isaac before. 

Isaac watches as Stiles shatters in front of him. His mask shattering and his walls crumbling, exposing all his doubts and insecurities. He watches as Stiles turns to him with a watery smile and says “Isaac, he hasn’t been my father for years.” then Isaac’s over the console between them and hugging Stiles fiercely and telling him to pull over.

Stiles pulls over and just falls apart in Isaac’s arms, telling him every word, bruise, and broken bone he’d endured through the years. Then he gets to the end and stutters out lastly with trembling breaths “Funnily enough.” he says with a bitter laugh most of his tears dry now, all cried out he continues sniffling “The worst thing he did was throw away every picture we had of my  mom. He threw away any pictures that had even a wisp of her hair in it. I remember I found one he’d missed, it was barely half her face.” he shrugs with imploring eyes on Isaac’s watery ones and says “But it—it was something. When he found out…” he trembles in Isaac’s arms at the terror and pain he’d endured that day, wishing he was in Derek’s arms. Isaac understands and everything, but...Derek. Then says mournfully “Isaac.” Now more tears finally pouring down “I don’t even remember what my mother looks like. I—I can’t even picture her in my head.” then he’s sobbing.

Minutes—which felt like hours—later, Isaac is hugging him fiercely and stating “We need to tell Derek.” needing to tell his Alpha, to better help Stiles.

Stiles pulls out of the hug and with trembling lips and begging eyes he pleads “No. Isaac please, please,  _ please _ . You can’t tell him. He’ll think I’m weak, he won’t want me anymore. It would be so humiliating. Please Isaac don’t make me.” he ends by pulling off the leather jacket and then his flannel with trembling hands and wiping his face on it, with the leather jacket in his lap.

Isaac looks at Stiles, heart breaking at Stiles words, he says “Stiles. Derek will always want you. And he’s always going on about how brave you are. And how strong you are to run with wolves. He doesn’t and never would think you’re weak. The humiliation. Stiles, I was in your shoes, I know that feeling. But I’m glad I told people. At first, yeah. It was embarrassing talking about it, but no one ever made me feel weak or less than. I was comforted. And now I’m pretty good most days. So yeah, you should tell Derek. He needs to know you’re hurting. That his Mate is being hurt. I’m sure he’s feeling it now.” Then adds with a knowing look “I know he’s feeling it.” he finishes with imploring eyes trying to drill each word into Stiles, then adds “To be honest, Derek’s probably gonna want to rip the Sheriff’s throat out. And I won’t be the one to stop him.” he says honestly with a shrug.

Stiles swipes at a few stray tears and on a huff of laughter says “You and me both pup.” then says with a watery smile “Come on we better get to the loft before they start getting ideas.” He’s says with a watery smile and waggling eyebrows as he puts the car into drive.

A bit before the loft comes into view Isaac asks “So, you’re going to tell Derek, right?” he glances out the passenger side nonchalantly like the question isn’t loaded, then adds “Stiles, he’ll be able to smell it on you, he can feel it, literally. I mean, I can feel it, so it must be so much worse for him. It can’t be avoided.” Isaac looks at Stiles waiting for an answer.

Stiles knuckles turn white, but slowly they loosen and he blows out a watery breath and says “Yeah. I’m going to tell him.” he says with conviction then adds shyly “But, could you guys maybe, uhm...tune out?” he internally winces at the odd wording.

Isaac smiles and says “Yeah. Absolutely, anything. Erica wanted to go see a movie, so that you two could have privacy anyway. So I’ll get them when we get there. Do you want me to tell them anything?” he asks hesitantly.

Stiles glances at Isaac then back to the road, as he sees the loft coming up he says “Yeah. Yeah, just, uhm, just don’t go into…” he searches for the right wording “...detail? Yeah, just the basics, not too gory.” he ends with a smile as he turns into the buildings bare parking lot.

  * ••



Derek had been grabbing out some steak when his Mates pack bond went tense and cold, it was so intense, he’d missed the counter by inches. As the meat hit the ground so did he, there was so much pain and hurt radiating from it, like a dam had just burst. The next thing he knows is Erica and Boyd have dropped down beside him nuzzling and whining at the ghostly feel of what Derek’s feeling and wiping away tears he hadn’t known had escaped. 

Derek stutters out “Stiles he—“ he’s cut off by Erica shushing him.

She says in a whimper “Isaac said they’ll be here soon. Just wait it out.” fiercely hugging her Alpha in distress.

Then it lessons and it’s just this pulsing throb in his chest, moments—could have been hours—later there’s a sharp intake of breath from the door and feet on the floor and two more bodies are in the hug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks?


	4. Chapter Four

Stiles parks the Jeep and stares out the windshield and asks “Is there any way out of this.” and glances at Isaac.

“Stiles.” Isaac says in a stern tone.

Stiles rolls his eyes and mutters “Fine.” and gets out.

When Isaac slides the door open Stiles gasps while Isaac says “Well this is not what I expected.” with raised brows.

Stiles grabs Isaac’s wrist and pulls him along as he runs over to their  _ puppy pile _ ? He decides it’s a puppy pile.

Erica looks at Stiles and opens her mouth to say something, but Isaac says “Erica, Boyd. Let’s go.” Erica glares and says “Bu—“ and is cut off by Isaac’s “I’ll tell you on the way to the movies.” he gives Stiles and Derek one more fierce grip and nuzzle, then he’s up and walking to the door.

Erica whines and says “But, Isaac—“ on the verge of sobbing, with her makeup smeared.

Isaac cuts her off with a stern “I will tell you in the car. Come on. We need to leave.” he wants to stay and comfort everyone, but Stiles needs to tell Derek.

Stiles lifts his head from Derek’s shoulder and says “Go on pups.” his voice slightly trembling, trying to hold back another sob.

Boyd and Erica squeeze the two men between them and then head for the door reluctantly.

After the betas have drove off, Derek and Stiles are wrapped around each other, Derek lifts his head dried tear tracks on his cheeks asking “What hap—“ But is cut off by another sob from Stiles and he whines, then goes back to nuzzling and scenting Stiles.

After Stiles sobs slowly taper off to sniffles, Derek lets go to look at his Mate. His heart breaks at his puffy eyes and the tremble on his lips, what happened? Who did this? He voices his thoughts in a growl “Who did this, Stiles?” then softer letting his cluelessness show “What _ happened _ ?” finally getting him to make eye contact.

Stiles smile is watery and trembling as he flicks his hands out, gesturing between them and says “We’re Mates.” he ends it with a tear-filled huff of laughter.

Derek asks “Ho—The betas.” he looks down, a growl reverberating in his chest, then says “I’m sorry you had to f—“ But he’s cut off by Stiles.

Stiles knows where this is going if he lets Derek continue; a misunderstanding, so he says “Stop.” Derek’s opened mouth shuts. He then says “Derek, this isn’t your fault. My…” he searches his word bank “...feelings? The way I smell, my scent isn’t from you. I’m happy. That we’re Mates, I like you. Like a lot. For a while now.” he finishes by blowing out a watery breath and looking down to his hands in his lap.

Derek asks once again pleadingly “Stiles, tell me what happened.” Stiles looks up at Derek’s concerned eyes.

Stiles says “I’m a mess. I had an emotional breakdown.” with a self-deprecating smile on his face. 

Derek says “Stiles, it felt—“ Stiles cuts him off.

“Well that’s what you get from oppression.” he says with a smile and shrug of his shoulders.

Derek goes to say something but Stiles asks “Can we get off the floor?” with pinched eyebrows.

Derek just nods and stands up, offering a hand to Stiles, he takes it and doesn’t let go. Derek leads him up the spiral staircase and into the Alpha’s bedroom and sets him on the edge of his bed. 

Stiles scoots farther back on the bed and crosses his legs saying “First of all, you can’t interrupt. No matter what. Period. Second of all, you can’t kill anyone. Okay?” he gets a nod from Derek and continues “It’s the Sheriff.”

Derek interrupts.

He asks “Stiles, is he hurt?” concern written all over his face.

Stiles rolls his eyes and mutters “I wish.” to himself, then to Derek “I told you not to interrupt.” with a stern glare, Derek whimpers and says “Sorry.” then puts his head down.

Stiles says “Look at me. I need to see you for this.” once his eyes are locked Stiles continues “The Sheriff is fine. I, however, am not. The Sheriff—he, Derek.” he whines pulling at Derek’s hands “I don’t wanna do this.” with a tearful voice.

Derek says “It’s fine, Stiles, you don’t have to.” he says, searching Stiles' eyes.

Stiles whines out “Derek.” and it breaks Derek at the needy whine of his name, his Mate needs him. Stiles says “I need to do this. It’s time.” he takes a few deep breaths and begins, pouring out all the feelings he kept in the back of his mind. He tells Derek the worst of it, the gory details, the physical and emotional abuse, he sobs as he tells Derek he can’t remember what his mother looked like. He ends with one of the worst incidents “Derek.” he says imploringly “He left me unc—conscious on the f—floor for t—two days.” more tears escaping. He leans more heavily on Derek as he asks “H—How c—could he d—do that? I’m h—his only s—son. Why?” his words choppy from the hiccups.

Stiles is basically in Derek’s lap as he snuggles closer to the werewolf and sniffles as he asks “Derek?” after a nuzzle from Derek he continues “My head hurts. Can we lay down?” he asks hesitantly.

Derek says “I can just take your pain.” with a smile.

Stiles wipes at his eyes and says “Oh. Yeah. But could we still lay down?” he asks with downcast and hesitant eyes.

Derek internally fist pumps and says “Anything you want.” with such adoration Stiles heart stutters.

They both kick off their shoes, Stiles contemplates how many clothes to take off. He says fuck it and takes off the jacket, his shirt, and his jeans and socks, figuring they’d already done this before, so who cares. Derek follows suit, then climbs under the covers after Stiles, clinging to his back and begins draining his dull throbbing headache.

Stiles drowsily mutters “And this doesn’t mean you get out of the Mate talk.” Then he silently drifts asleep, with contentment rolling off from him.


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This shit is nasty. Just sayin'. Like terrible nastiness is ahead. You've been warned.

Each sleep-slurred variation of Derek's name getting louder and more aroused by the second “D’rek. D’rek. D’ek. D’ek. Dick. Dick. D’k...Der’k...Derek. Derek!”

Derek removes his arm from his face and sighs, seemingly unable to ignore it anymore “What?”

“It’s Friday.”

“And...”

“I have school.”

“And…”

“I need to go to school. I need to get clothes from my room. And I need to shower.”

“I don’t want you going back there, Stiles. Not alone. And is today vital to your entire high school career? Because if it isn’t…”

“Derek.” Stiles sits up and stares at him “I can’t miss a day just because.”

“You can and you will.”

Stiles sighs and slumps back down to the wolf’s chest “You know what? Fine. But I’m not getting out of bed until two. And then we’re showering, and your taking me back to my place. Okay?”

“Mhm.”

“Good.”

“So... _ we’re  _ showering?”

“Yeah.”

“Together.”

“Yeah...why—Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Stiles hands stop carding through Derek’s chest hair, he hasn’t really thought about  _ that  _ yet. Okay, this is gonna be fun “So...about that Mates thing?”

Derek sighs “They’re basically soulmates, but…” he rushes the last part out in one long breath “you have to consummate the bond with a bite, both parties. And wolves have knots, werewolves have knots. I have to knot you, bite you, and then Mates.” After a moment he adds “That’s just like, the stuff. You do. But uh, you don’t—We don’t have to d—”

“Derek, shut up.”

His jaw clicks shut.

Stiles sits up and asks “Can we—Can I see it?”

“What?”

“Your—Your knot. Can I see it?”

“Stiles, I don’t know—”

“No, it’s okay. I’m sorry—”

“Stiles. It’s okay. I just, I need to be…”

”Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Can we...do that.”

“Sex.”

Stiles nods “Mhm. Yeah, that.”

“I—Stiles. I don’t—“

“You’re not Kate.”

“And you’re not eighteen.” Derek counters with a raised brow.

“Derek. If I didn’t care about my father’s reputation I could have gotten emancipated  _ long _ before you showed up. So age really doesn’t matter to me.”

“Okay. But...would you move in here? I’m getting it fixed up. There won’t be any holes and this room is up to date—most of them are—and it’s already sound proof.”

“Sound proof? Yeah, definitely. Okay, but we’ll need to get my stuff from the house. There’s electricity?”

“I had a social worker here, Stiles. It’s not like it was. You saw it when you came in.”

Stiles looks around the room “Yeah. I saw. And you actually have a room.”

“Yeah. So do the betas.”

“So. That was the whole Mate talk?”

“My bite won’t turn you into a wolf, unless…”

“I wanted it to.”

Derek nods “Do you?”

Stiles smiles and shakes his head fondly “Not right now, no.”

“Okay.”

“So...it’s…” he checks the clock on the nightstand “Seven forty three. I’d say six hours in bed. Wanna do that Mate thing?”

“I’ve wanted to do it since I met you.”

“Awww. That was creepy, yet sappy. Nice one, Sourwolf. So…” he pulls back more and settles into Indian-style “how are we—What are we gonna do?”

“What do you wanna do?”

Seriously? He’s gonna smack the shit out of Derek. Instead of that he rolls his eyes and kisses the damn wolf. It’s glorious, absolute heaven, and then Derek’s licking and there’s tongue and...it’s paradise. Hot, wet,  _ arousing _ , paradise. All the porn he’s watched doesn’t compare to how it actually feels. How Derek feels against him, his abs, chest hair. His body in general, the way he holds Stiles against him, the way his tongue licks into his mouth, and in the next second Stiles is under Derek trying to catch his breath.

Derek starts kissing his jaw, down his neck, nibbling on his ear, and then he’s nosing Stiles’ pulse point, inhaling his scent. Stiles is so incredibly hard, he really doesn’t know if he’s gonna last. He can feel Derek against his inner thigh, its intoxicating. He can’t wait till he’s inside of him.

Stiles is panting as he pulls off his boxers and throws them on the floor, he brings his eyes back to Derek’s hungry gaze and then his eyes roll into his head when Derek grabs his cock and pulls. Holy hell, he’s going to die.

He pants out “Oh—my god—I’m g—going—to die.”

“Or come.”

“That’d—be preferable.”

Derek kisses his lips, down his throat, swirls his tongue around each nipple, nibbling on his left one, and eliciting a gorgeous moan from the man below him. He keeps going lower, he noses down Stiles’ happy trail, to the base of his decent sized cock, he inhales Stiles concentrated scent and rumbles in pleasure. He looks up under his lashes and asks “Can I?”

Stiles just stares for a long moment, then nods with vigor “Uh huh. Yeah, yesss— _ Oh my god _ .” Derek takes him almost to the root. It’s hot, wet, heat, driving Stiles insane.

It’s too quick when he’s pawing at Derek’s shoulder and pitifully whining “I’m gonna come, Derek!”

Derek doesn’t stop, if anything he tries taking all of him. He starts choking as Stiles helplessly thrusts up as he empties down Derek’s throat.

Derek swallows everything, he pushes the fluids that’d came out the sides back into his mouth hungrily. Stiles can already feel his dick getting hard again.

Derek dives back in for a dirty and wet kiss. He pulls back and orders with red eyes “Hands and knees.”

Stiles sees Derek grab something from the bedside table, must be lube. He tensed in preparation for the cold feeling, it never comes. Instead there’s a hot and wet tongue on his ass, licking, fucking his asshole. He didn’t know it’d feel this good.

Derek’s sucking, fucking, and kissing Stiles hole with his mouth, he tastes so  _ good _ . He can’t wait till he’s inside of him.

Stiles is pushing back and begging “Please, Derek.  _ More _ .”

Derek follows his trail of spit down to Stiles balls, he starts licking, mouthing, and sucking them. Derek nibbles on his balls, Stiles shudders, and then there’s a finger inside of him.

“Please, Derek.” Hes panting and whining, every word coming out on breathy little moans “Fuck me, please, I need—I need you to g—Get I—inside—To breed me. Knot me. F—fill me up. You’re gonna fill me up so good. Right? Right, so good. Gonna fuc—c—ck—” Derek shoves two more fingers in, he starts scissoring them apart and then he curls them forward and “Fuck! Ooooooh. Derek! Derek! Derek! Derek! I need you! I'm ready!” They’re all just pitiful whines by now “Fuck me,  _ please _ . Derek, I wanna feel you. I want your come dripping out of me. Wait—I—Derek—” he has a moment of clarity “We need a butt plug.”

Derek hums as he licks around the fingers fucking in and out in rapid succession, then he removes his fingers and mouth, leaving Stiles whining at the loss “ _ Derek _ .”

“Patience.” Derek’s smirking.

Derek’s slicks his cock up and presses the tip to Stiles’ hole. Stiles gasps at the prodding and then Derek sinks into the tight heat he’s been waiting for. It’s glorious and Stiles is mewling.

When Derek is in to the root Stiles gasps for a whole new reason. The sensation of being filled to the brim with Derek. His cock a breath away from Stiles’ prostate.

Derek gives an involuntary jerk and Stiles eyes roll into his skull as Derek’s cockhead hits his prostate. Derek leans down and pants “Sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry one bit as he starts nosing down Stiles’ throat.

Stiles grips Derek’s shoulders as he pants out, with closed eyes as he tries to control himself “Just—Just...jus’ wait. I’m not gonna last long.”

Derek nibbles on Stiles jaw and pulls back with a small smile “Me neither.”

After a moment Stiles asks “The knot. Have you…?”

Derek comes back up from Stiles throat and shakes his head with a “Mates.” before returning back to Stiles’ throat.

“Good, now move.” Stiles really hopes he doesn’t come after a minute. That’d suck.

A strange look comes over Derek’s face as he’s about to pull out. Then he looks like he’s going to be sick. Stiles puts a hand on his jaw so they’re looking st each other “What is it, Big guy?”

Derek’s cheeks redden then as he mutters “I...forgot something.” at Stiles’ questioning look, he adds “About mating.”

Stiles gulps “Which is…”

“Males can get…”

Stiles’ eyes widen in realization and he finishes Derek’s hesitant and drawn out explanation “Pregnant.”

Derek nods and looks down, assuming Stiles wouldn’t want to be pregnant.

“Hey.” Stiles’ grip tightens on his jaw so Derek’ll look at him “I’m not saying I’d be against it, but like...how long would it be? Like nine months or…?”

Derek says “Well if you get me pregnant...I  _ think  _ three or six? Months. For you, regular.”

“Wait, wait,  _ wait _ . I can get  _ you _ pregnant?”

Derek gives a sheepish nod.

“That’s the hottest thing—Oh my—Derek! Fuck me. I want babies. Now.” 

Derek’s eyes go wide “Stiles, you’re in high school.”

Stiles groans and rolls his eyes too high on pleasure already “ I’m nearly out. I could start online. If I get pregnant.”

“Stiles.”

“Do you not want to Mate with me?”

“I—Stiles, of course I do, but—”

“No, Derek. Just listen. If and only  _ if _ I get pregnant I’ll do online and I’ll have you and the pack supporting me.” when it doesn’t look like Derek’s going to budge, Stiles adds “Come on, Derek. Don’t you wanna fill me up? Full of your seed? Breed me full with pups? Want my stomach to bulge at the fullness? Wanna lick at my loose hole as your cum dribbles ou—ooh. O—oh,  _ yes _ .”

After a while—Stiles doesn’t know, too distracted—of Derek hitting Stiles’ prostate with every thrust, his cock is red and leaking on his belly. Stiles blearily sees Derek’s eyes go red before he grunts out “Now, Stiles, now.” A moment later Stiles’ juncture between his neck and throat is throbbing in ecstasy and he can feel Derek’s knot filling him up. And then after a few moments they slowly come down from their high.

Derek is lazily licking at the bite mark he left on Stiles and Stiles has one hand tracing the triskelion tattoo, while the other one is running fingers through the hair at Derek’s nape as he admires the scarred bite on Derek's throat.

Stiles sighs with contentment rolling off him in waves as he asks “How long?”

Derek barely acknowledges him “An hour...maybe more. I don’t know.”

“Okay.” Stiles says happily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry. Like seriously. And thanks for you know...readin' and stuff.


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, Kiddies. It's been a while.

A shrill ringing wakes the two from their wondrous slumber. Derek’s hand reaches out for it, but is quickly snatched back by Stiles and a sleep heavy voice “No. Sleep.”

Derek breathes in Stiles’ scent and said “What if it’s the pack?”

Stiles groans “ _ Fine _ .” as Derek extracts himself from under Stiles, Stiles mutters “Fucking  _ Derek _ .”

Derek answers the call on the last ring “Wha—”

“Scott’s going feral.”

“Erica?”

“Gone? We locked him in the boiler room at school.”

“I—What time is it?” Derek’s rolling out of bed and pulling on a pair of jeans.

“Four...why—”

“What happened?” He's pulling on socks and stepping into his boots as Stiles starts getting ready as well.

There’s a muffled  _ here _ and then Isaac’s speaking, it sounds like he’s panting “We were at lunch and it was fine but there was this weird scent. We didn’t think anything of it, but at practice he was super aggressive and kept shifting and growling. It was his scent at lunch.” there’re more muffled voices and then Erica again “I was talking to Allison and she said Scott dragged her off before lunch was over to do it in a classroom. She said he was shifting and biting, she kept saying no and he wasn’t listening, so she pushed him off and went to class. She’s with us by the way.”

Derek had turned it to speaker phone half way through so Stiles could hear, he looks at Stiles shoving his feet into his sneakers and says “We’ll be there.” and hangs up.

Stiles grabs one of Derek’s shirts and pulls it on “Let's go.”

They’re down the stairs and out the door.

The camaro pulls into the mostly empty parking lot and they both get out and head inside.

When they find the four teens, Boyd and Isaac have their backs against the door that Scott’s somewhere behind, Ericas next to them with wide, worried eyes. Allison is across from the door with wide, uncomfortable eyes. Derek says “What happened?”

“We told you.” It’s Erica with a slight growl.

“Since the call.”

“Oh...nothing really. He’s just growling and stuff.”

“Okay, what happened yesterday or last night? Something must—”

“He thought him and I were pack.” Stiles says it more to himself, but almost everyone in the room has werewolf senses.

“He—Oh...well, I guess that’s why he wasn’t feral before.”

Allison hesitantly speaks up “Uh—What—what about me?”

Stiles turns to Allison and explains “Three betas, pack members. There was Scott, you, and me. Now it’s you and him.”

Allison is teary-eyed as she says “I—I thought I was enough.”

Stiles can’t take it. Allison is a good person, she doesn’t deserve this. He walks up to her and wraps her in a hug and says “You’re more than enough. Scott is a fuck up, not you.”

Stiles hears growling and looks over his shoulder. Isaac and Erica are holding Derek back, from what, Stiles has no idea. He gives Allison one more pat and lets go with an “It’ll be okay.”

Allison is nodding as she wipes away tears with a small “Okay.” in response.

Stiles goes to Derek and wraps himself around the Sourwolf. Derek starts scenting him like crazy. Stiles stifles a laugh as he says “Jealous?”

“I don’t like it.” Derek bites out.

Stiles slides his hands under Derek’s jacket and shirt and sighs “I know.”

Stiles pulls back and asks the room “What are we doing?”

Everyone’s smirking at him, even Boyd. Allison says excitedly “Yesss! I shipped it!”

Stiles gives her a nod and says “Noted.” then addresses the room at large “So. I think we should see if Alli’s dad has werewolf tranqs. then put him somewhere and figure out what to do.”

Everyone looks to Derek and he says “You heard him.” then to Allison “Call your dad.”

“On it.” Then she walks around the corner.

She comes back with a “He’ll be here in ten.”

“Then we wait.” Stiles concludes.

After a while Allison’s phone chimes and she says “He’s here, I’ll be back.”

Isaac and Boyd are just sitting against the back door when Scott starts again “Seriously?” Isaac mutters.

Derek looks toward the only exit “She’s almost here.”

Scott’s ramming the door harder and harder. With a strangled shout of “Erica!” from Isaac, Scott’s out and then Derek’s roaring. Scott isn’t submitting. Derek tackles Scott to the ground and it’s all very vanilla and anticlimactic.

Chris comes in, gun in hand, shoots Scott. They say their goodbyes and Chris takes Allison home. Boyd throws Scott in the SUV and he, Isaac, and Erica head to the loft to chain Scott up.

Derek and Stiles make their way back and when everyone is sitting in the living room, Isaac finally speaks up “Are we all going to ignore how much they  _ reeked _ when they came in?”

Erica looks away from the screen and says “I thought so.” then returns to  _ Adventure Time _ .

Stiles cheeks heat as he says sheepishly “We—Uh...we mated. Earlier.”

“Oh. Well, sorry for interrupting.”

“Oh no, we were sleeping.” Stiles rushes.

Erica turns her head without looking away from the show and says “But we are ignoring Scott, though. Right?”

“Yepe.” Stiles grabs the remote, raises the volume and snuggles closer to his Alpha, tuning out all the noise that Scott's making.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos and comments and reading in general.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It gets nasty...sorry? *shoulder shrug*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I'm 100% percent MPREG on most things so if you don't want that...should probably stop while you're ahead. Which means some dude is having babies in this fic. Sorry if that's not for you. Not that adoption and whatnot is like...bad in fics. I just want STEREK kids that are half Stiles and half Derek and 100% STEREK. So...this obviously has sex...again, SORRY.   
> And if there're mistakes and whatnot, comment that shit and I'll fix it. Oh and if you don't wanna read the nasty stuff stop reading when they're on the couch. I'm now realizing that this entire chapter is basically smut. Is there too much dialogue? Maybe? I don't know...I'm like REALLY sorry.   
> *shrug*

“I don’t know what you want me to do, Stiles. He won’t submit. The only thing I can think of is Argent. He follows the code. He’ll have some...insight.” Derek bites out the last word in contained anger. Not at Stiles, no. At the implications  _ insight _ has.

Stiles is sitting at the table with his knees pulled into his chest “I—But maybe if—If we could just—just calm him down a little and reason—”

“Stiles.” Derek lets out a resigned sigh “I—I don’t know, Stiles. I’ll talk to Argent, but don’t get your hopes up.”

“I won’t.”

Derek grabs his leather jacket and keys “I’ll be back.”

The door shuts and it’s a good fifteen or so minutes before Stiles finally mutters “I’ll be here.”

  * —_•—



“I can put him down.”

Derek gives Chris an unimpressed look “You and I both know that you won’t do that.”

“Derek, you said it yourself; he won’t submit. What other options are there?”

The beginnings of an idea pops into Derek’s head. Submit. He looks at Chris and mumbles in thought “Submit...”

“What?”

“He won’t submit to  _ me _ . There are other packs; Satomi’s close.”

Chris doesn’t speak for a moment “I—Derek…” he asks in clarification “You know how Satomi is?”

Derek nods “I do. It’s not the most ideal, but I do think she can... _ shape _ him up. She’s been doing this for years.”

Chris nods “Well, I take it you only came in desperation and I’m no longer needed.”

Derek gives a tense nod “Sir.”

Chris nods to the door and ends the encounter with a final and diplomatic “Alpha Hale.”

  * —_•—



“What!” Stiles exclaims in outrage. Okay, let's be real, it was more so unadulterated bewilderment.

“Either that or a bullet in his head.” Derek raises his eyebrows.

“You know what, it’s fine. I’m not his keeper and if he gets better that’s good for him.” He gets up from the chair and drops himself in Derek’s lap on the couch. He wraps his arms around Derek and says helplessly “I don’t—I don't know why I’m so... _ attached _ .”

“Stiles.” Derek comforts “He was your best friend for years, Stiles. You don’t get over decade-long friendships in a second.”

Stiles’ eyes are glassy when he responds a second later “But I should. Should be able. Should. Should. Should—”

“Stiles.” Derek pulls him closer to his chest, his hand rubbing small, soothing patterns into Stiles’ lower back “He’ll be fine. Satomi has...more... _ experience _ . Without of control betas. Everyone will be fine.” 

“I—I know.” After a moment he hesitantly asks “Is—is it...bad that I...I don’t want him to come back?”

“N—”

“Alive.” He adds in a whisper.

Derek’s mouth falls open just a little bit before it clicks shut “Well, I don’t—I don’t think that’s  _ bad _ per se, just...aggressively hopeful?” Derek has absolutely no clue as to how to answer that question.

Stiles kisses him on the tip of his nose and breathes out on a happy sigh “You’re adorable.” After a moment he kisses Derek’s eyelids that’d fluttered closed “You’re beautiful.” He kisses Derek’s cheekbones and adds with a cheeky smirk “And handsome.” He kisses his forehead with a wet and loving smack “A big, soft, teddy-bear.” He finally comes to Derek’s slightly parted lips. Stiles drags Derek’s bottom lip down with his thumb and Derek’s breath hitches. A second before their lips touch, he whispers “My Alpha.”

Derek brings a hand up to Stiles’ jaw to deepen the kiss, licking at Stiles’ lips in askance. Stiles lets him in with a throaty moan. He slips one hand into Derek’s hair while the other rakes its nails down his nape. After a moment of contemplation, he slides off Derek’s lap to his knees on the floor between his legs. Stiles can’t wait to get his hands on those thick and  _ hairy  _ thighs.

Stiles places his hands on Derek’s clothed knees and looks up at him with a manic grin. He unties the string and starts to pull the sweatpants off from Derek—with the help of Derek himself. They’re pooled at his ankles when Stiles is tugging at the hem of Derek’s shirt with a pitiful whine escaping his throat. Derek huffs in laughter at Stiles’ antics; he grabs the bottom and pulls it over while saying “ _ You’re  _ adorable.”

“And you’re amazing.” Stiles sighs happily. He sits back on his knees and rakes his eyes across every inch of skin on display for him. Just for him.

“Just for you.” Looks like he said that out loud, oops.

Stiles searches Derek’s eyes and asks in desperate need, with childlike innocence “All mine?”

Derek smiles and nods “All yours. Always.”

Stiles’ eyes leave Derek’s own, to take in the expanse of his gorgeous body. He’s unable to believe that he gets  _ this _ . With more confidence, his eyes lock with Derek’s “All mine.”

All Derek can do is hum in agreement when Stiles starts sliding his hands up and down Derek’s thighs slowly. As Stiles is running his fingers through the coarse black hair he whispers “I think I have a hairy kink. Hairy men.” His eyes meet Derek’s “Or just one hairy Sourwolf in particular.” His lips are hinting at a smirk by the end. Stiles settles his hands and looks up to Derek “You know” he says seriously “I love you for more than your body, right?”

Derek nods “We mated, Stiles. You would have died if there weren’t feelings. Or a werewolf. I wouldn’t have done it in the beginning if I thought—I love everything about you, Stiles. Your body, those  _ moles _ , your strength and your passion, how smart you are, strategic, all the rambling, and it’s adorable when you flail around.” At the end, he sighs out happily “I love you.”

Stiles smiles giddily, blush painting his cheeks “ _ Derek _ . You’ll be the death of me.”

Derek guffaws in outrage “Me! You’re always getting yourself into trouble and then I have to save you.”

Stiles gives him an unimpressed look.

“Okay.” Derek acquiesces, his lips hinting at a pout “I help you save yourself.”

“Let me just list off a few things: Kate shot you, the kanima paralyzed you—Wait. Did you know we were Mates when you came to me after she shot you?” Derek gives a sheepish nod “ _ Derek _ . We could have been doing the nasty for  _ months  _ al—Wait. We’re supposed to be sexing right now.” He whines “ _ Derek _ , why didn’t you stop me?”

Derek brings a hand to Stiles’ cheek “You’re adorable.”

“We’re going to have sex.”

“Are we now?”

“Well, unless you don’t want to?” He pulls his hands away “Is something—Did I do—”

“Stiles.” Derek breathes out in exasperation “I want to have sex with you. All the time. Every time I lay eyes on you, or your scent.” He takes in a deep breath at the end.

Stiles sits back and says “Good. That’s...good.” He looks down at his knees, where his hands are fidgeting, and rushes out “Can I top?”

After a moment, Derek leans forward and grabs Stiles’ hands, placing them on his knees “Of course you can, I’m sorry if you thought that you couldn’t.”

“No, no, no, no, no, no,  _ no _ .” Stiles tsks “I just didn’t know if you were like...not into bottoming.” he shrugs at the end.

“You thought I was a top.”

“Is that so hard to believe?” He lets go of Derek to wave his hands around Derek’s body for emphasis “I mean, a strong, muscular man with a five o'clock shadow? We never...talked about it.” he shrugs again.

Derek nods “Now we are.”

“We are.” Stiles nods “So...we’re versatile?”

“We are.”

“Well,” Stiles brings his hands back up to Derek’s thighs “we should stop talking then, shouldn't we.” He’s not asking.

“I’m naked, Stiles. I could not have held a conversation for this long if I were in your shoes.”

“Well, I’m better at multitasking.”

“Oh real—oh…” Stiles grabs his dick and starts stroking it slowly, up and down. Stiles says “Much better.” Derek is too far gone to ask if it’s about the multitasking or reducing him to moans and whimpers. Stiles watches Derek watch Stiles’ hand go up and back down, come up and swipe a thumb over his head. Before Derek knows what hit him, he’s letting out a punched-out moan as Stiles licks the head, lapping at the pre-come.

Derek feels like a kid when he has to pull Stiles away before he comes down his throat embarrassingly fast. He pants out “Inside. I want—”

A look of stunned realization comes over Stiles’ face as he rushes in awe “You wanna cum on my cock.” Before Derek can formulate a sentence Stiles is on him, straddling his thighs, he pulls back from Derek’s delectable lips to whisper breathily “That’s so hot.” Derek just nods along to Stiles’ words. After a moment, he pulls back once more “We—Uh, yeah, the bed.” Stiles really wants to keep touching, but he wants it to happen in bed.  _ Their  _ bed.

He stands and grabs Derek’s hand rushing off toward the stairs with a dazed and naked Derek following. He fumbles with the door for a few seconds too long, in his opinion. But in the end, he has Derek under him on the bed, so it’s all good in the end.

Stiles starts at his lips, then he kisses along Derek’s jaw, then down his throat, sucking bruises into the skin that he knows will be gone in seconds. He has one hand lifting Derek’s thigh to wedge himself more firmly between Derek's legs, the other is running over his abs and through his chest hair, reveling in the feeling of coarse curls against his fingers. Derek’s panting and cursing and chanting Stiles’ name like a prayer. It’s music to Stiles’ ears. He smirks as he bites down on Derek’s pulse point. Three things happen; Derek beta shifts and lets out what Stiles will forever call a ‘sex roar’, trembles and comes.

Well. Stiles knows things for future reference. He releases the skin between his teeth and comes up to Derek’s blissed-out face, it's still shifted. They’re both breathing heavily as Stiles runs a hand down Derek’s sideburns and asks “Why haven't we had shifted sex?”

After a minute Derek responds “I don’t...well...I...we've only had sex like, four times. You need to say what you want or I will never know.”

Stiles tsks and says “Buddy, same goes for you and it was way more than  _ four _ times, Derek. The past few days you've had me bent over almost every surface in this loft, except for the mirror. I don’t know if it’s just cluelessness or you just hadn't gotten to it yet...” Derek mumbles “Sorry, hadn’t gotten to it yet.” Stiles nuzzles against Derek’s hairy face “You know the most adorable thing is when your lisping in an intimate situation.”

Derek rolls his eyes and the shift bleeds a way to an only slightly hairy face “So no shifted sex?” Stiles asks with depleting hope. Derek shakes his head fondly “No, not today.” Stiles asks with renewed hope “Another day?” Derek nods and asks nonchalance “You wanna eat me out?”

Stiles doesn't move, no twitching, not even a blink. After a moment Derek searches Stiles’ eyes in a slight panic, he pokes Stiles’ cheek and says “Stiles?” in a slightly panicked tone. After a few small slaps, Stiles blinks. When his eyes focus he says “I think I just blacked out.” Derek sits up and pulls Stiles into his chest “I thought something was wrong.”

Stiles pats his chest and pulls back “For the sake of my sanity, warn a guy when you’re about to say some—literally—insanely hot shit to me. Seriously. I think my system was just, like,  _ so _ overwhelmed with want and just  _ mind-numbing ec _ stasy that I just...short-circuited.” He shrugs at the end. And now all Derek can smell is the want pouring off from Stiles.

Without another word, Derek pushes Stiles aside and gets on his hands and knees. 

After an annoyed “Come on.” from Stiles and an ass shake from Derek. Stiles comes up and settles behind him. He grabs each globe of Derek’s ass and kneads them, pulling them apart to reveal his wrinkling, hairy, hole and pushing them back together. He brings his face closer to Derek’s hole and blows on it, but before Derek can complain about teasing Stiles licks across his tight hole. Derek lets out a small gasp in surprise. Then something strange happens.

A clear fluid drips out. Stiles isn’t...disgusted, just...curious? He brings his face up and says “Uh...Derek?” Derek doesn’t respond “There’s uh...I—” There’s a muffled noise from Derek “What?”

“It’s slick, I’m self-lubricating. My body is preparing me to get— _ oh my god _ , this is so embarrassing. I’m not talking anymore.”

Stiles sees more slick slipping out and drags what he can back up to Derek’s fluttering rim, pushing it back in with his thumb, then he sucks on his thumb. It’s...tasty. Stiles doesn’t understand why Derek is embarrassed. It’s natural right? He finally acknowledges Derek’s complete silence and stiffness. He pulls further back and asks “Der? Is some—Did I—” Derek groans and pushes his hips back. Stiles doesn’t budge “Uh uh, big guy. Talk.”

“ _ Stiles _ .”

“I swear I will  _ not _ touch you for a month if you don’t start talking.”

Derek’s groans even louder “Fine. But I’m not moving.”

“Okay.”

“So...my wolf wants  _ babies _ ! Surprise! And if you fuck me there’s a good chance I’ll get pregnant. Or go into heat. Or both. That’s why I’m...leaking.”

“I don’t know why that sounds so hot. Ooh, when you're all round and mushy I’m gonna fuck you so hard—I’ll stop talking.”

“Mushy.” That’s definitely a giggle.

“Stop! I meant like soft and not muscled and I’d want you to fuck  _ me _ hard  _ too _ .”   
“Okay. Eat my ass.”And that. Stiles does.

Once Derek starts pushing his hips back in fervor, trying to impale himself on Stiles’ tongue, Stiles spears his tongue inside, finally breaching Derek’s tight hole. Derek lets out a low moan in pleasure; it’s not a finger, but it’ll hold until then.

Soon Stiles moves to fingers, though his tongue is still lapping around the digits inside, swallowing down Derek’s sweet sweet slick. Derek is moaning and pushing back and moaning obscenities, letting out whimpers whenever Stiles long, slender fingers brush up against his prostate.

Stiles is totally ready to come. His left hand is wrapped around the base of his dick; he fears that he won’t last long. He’s debating with himself whether or not to go to three or just stay at two because one: werewolf healing powers and two: he doesn’t know how much longer he’ll be able to keep his head on straight. It’s Derek man.

Derek is pushing back and panting out “I’m ready. I can take it.  _ Please _ .” The longer Stiles lets him go the more desperate he becomes “ _ Stiles _ . Come  _ on _ , p—p—ple— _ please _ .  _ Sti _ —” Stiles pulls his fingers out, essentially shutting Derek up until he starts whining from the emptiness. Stiles is quick to shove himself inside of Derek’s somewhat stretched hole and silence the whining, invoking moans of pleasure instead. And it’s...not...what he was expecting. He grabs Derek's shoulders and sees if that’s better. It’s not. Sure the friction on his dick is nice, but...Derek. He wants to see Derek’s face; he wants to see the way Derek’s face contorts in pain and pleasure as Stiles hits his prostate on nearly every thrust.

Stiles brings his nose down to Derek’s nape and drags it down his spine sensually as he slowly pulls out. They both moan as his massive stallion exits the stables(I know I know. I  _ know _ . But it’s funny. I had to. Kind of? Maybe? Yeah...probably not. *Shrugs and keeps typing*). Before Derek can complain further, Stiles says “Turn around. I wanna see your face.” Derek is quick to turn around.

Stiles settles himself between Derek’s thick, hairy thighs; he’s breathing heavily. He kisses him, savoring every inch of lip and tongue. Derek’s breath hitches as Stiles brings his throbbing member to Derek’s rim. He drags his nose along Derek’s jaw, and then down his neck. One of Stiles’ hands is ghosting across Derek’s sculpted torso and raking its fingers through coarse chest hair, meanwhile, the other hand is holding Derek’s leg in position as his thrusts get rougher and quicker.

If Stiles could form a coherent thought he would probably be embarrassed at how fast this will be over, but it’s Derek, what do you expect?

Stiles slides his right hand down to cup Derek’s ass as he sucks bruises—that he knows won’t be there in a few seconds—into Derek’s throat. He finds his pulse point, much like the previous round and starts licking and nibbling on it. Stiles is about to bust.

Derek’s grip around him is getting tighter and tighter. He manages to pant out “Gonna—gonna—”

“Yeah.” Stiles pants back. Stiles pulls out and thrusts as deep as he can; he buries himself deep, bites Derek’s pulse point, and lets go with Derek’s name on his tongue. Derek moans  _ Stiles _ and comes on his chest. No beta shift this time. Stiles collapses on top of Derek, knowing he can take his weight even after a  _ mind-blowing _ —thank you very much—orgasm.

Once Stiles comes into focus with reality he starts—keyword starts—to slowly slide out of Derek but is stopped by Derek locking his legs around Stiles and swallowing his dick back down. Derek lets out a content sigh, Stiles asks “Is this like...Alpha hormones or something?” He ends it with a light-hearted laugh. Derek doesn’t join in “Derek?”

“Yes.”

About—”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Well...sides?” after a quizzical look from Derek and his judgey bows Stiles adds in explanation “More comfortable.” Derek grumbles in agreement.

They’re wrapped around each other and Derek is asleep immediately after his face hits the pillow; Stiles follows suit soon after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're still here...thanks. I've been putting off finishing this for weeks—literally weeks—'cause someone—me—always finds a way to turn something dirty and I wrote too much to delete it all and start over so...yeah. I checked and it's like 3000 words. I CAN NOT. Comments are helpful and appreciated. I feel like I'm talking on behalf of a group.   
> *Ahem* Comments are helpful for ME and I appreciate them.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Woah! Jackson's the Kanima, who would've thought?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...didn't want to rewatch Teen Wolf so...it's not exactly correct. But it's fine because there's finally some supernatural shit.

Stiles kind of doesn’t want to be apart of this...but they  _ were _ friends, once upon a time.

“A crate. A  _ crate _ .” Stiles mumbles when Chris arrives with a truck. Two guys and a truck. Stiles blows into his slightly chilled fists as he watches the two men carry out Scott’s limp form and put him in the crate.

~

While they were unchaining Scott, he’d lunged toward Stiles. Derek had grabbed him mid leap and threw him to the ground. He immediately beat him bloody and unconscious; punch after punch. Derek had to change his shirt and Stiles had to pull him off from Scott’s lifeless body. Chris gave Scott a sedative just in case he woke up.

~

Derek is next to Stiles and Chris is directing the guys “This seems…”

“What?”

Stiles tilts his head to the side minutely “I’d say odd, but werewolves, so…”

“Yeah.” Derek nods.

Once the truck is closed up, Chris turns toward Derek. There’s a tense stare, a nod from both, then Chris and the men are in the truck and driving off.

Stiles blows out a breath. “Well. That was less climactic than I thought it’d be.”

Derek huffs in amusement “Aside from me nearly killing Scott of course.”

“Oh yeah. That was nice of you.”

“I never liked him.”

Stiles brings a hand to his own chest and gasps in mock surprise “What? I had no idea.” He straightens up and says with seriousness “I thought you two were hitting it off.”

Derek just stares at him.

Stiles smiles and wraps an arm around Derek, seeking warmth “Come on, let’s go inside.”

~

Stiles is stretched out on Derek’s bedroom floor with a pen in his mouth, surrounded by books Derek had brought up for Stiles. 

Stiles looks up from a book and pulls the pen out of his mouth “I got something.” He pulls the pen out of his mouth and continues “A kanima.”

“A kanima?”

“It’s basically a werewolf bite that turned to shit. The person rejects the bite because of their inner turmoil and whatnot. So...yeah.” He’s engrossed in his book when—with a huff of laughter—he adds “I mean it’s not like you bit someone and it didn’t work.” after a second, Stiles realizes Derek isn’t laughing and does a double take “You  _ didn’t  _ bite anyone. _ Right _ ?” After a moment Stiles sighs dejectedly and asks “Who?”

“You’re not gonna like it.”

“Derek.”

Derek mutters “Jackson.”

“I—Are you  _ fucking _ kidding me? Are you serious?  _ Jackson?  _ What the fuck, Derek!” Stiles gets up and heads for the door “I—I can’t. I can’t. I need—I need…”

He’s down the stairs and out the door in a blur. He feels so betrayed. Why Jackson?  _ When? _

Stiles gets in his Jeep and drives. After awhile he sees a gas station and stops to get gas and water, he just...he needs to think.

There’s no way Jackson isn’t the Kanima. If the bite didn’t work he’d be dead or...a kanima. So it’s definitely Jackson. Unless Derek bit someone else Stiles has no clue about. Fuck, he feels so fucking clueless. He knows that  _ logically  _ he’s blowing this all out of proportion. He  _ knows _ that, but he can’t help but feel betrayed. Derek bit  _ Jackson _ . Stiles can’t understand why, was the urge to bite  _ that bad _ ?

Stiles laughs to himself as he shuts the door and starts the car again. He thinks to himself, maybe it was that bad.

Stiles drives until he comes upon a park; he has a brief flash of a memory he’s long since forgotten, or more likely repressed. It was a happy one because his mother was still alive, but it quickly soured with his father’s dark and gloomy presence obscuring the light of his mother.

He sits in the Jeep for a good ten minutes before he actually gets out. He grabs the hot Cheetos, he’d gotten on a whim, along with a large water bottle, just in case. He sits on a bench and stares at the bottle of water, thinking that he’s definitely gonna have a bursting bladder by the time he gets home.

Home. He thinks about it. The Sheriff’s house was a sanitarium Derek checked him out of, though, his home isn’t the loft either. He lets out a small chuckle at his cliche notion. Derek is his home. He can curl around Derek and be  _ home _ .

Stiles pops a Cheeto into his mouth with a smile at his sappy thoughts. He’s so gone on him. He should probably go home. To Derek. So that he can apologize for being so dramatic and blowing everything out of proportion. And hit Derek. Or at least cause  _ mild _ bodily harm to him because Stiles is still super pissed about the whole ‘biting Jackass’ thing.

He throws the bag of Cheetos away, finishes the water and then starts the Jeep, already feeling the discomfort of a full bladder. He  _ knew  _ he shouldn’t have bought the water. Halfway to the loft Stiles honestly doesn’t know if he’s gonna make it or not.

He does. Although, instead of going to Derek and reconciling, Stiles glares at Derek as he nearly runs into him on his way to the bathroom. Stiles sees the hope in Derek’s eyes dim, he feels bad for all of a second before he’s pissing and sighing happily and he feels  _ amazing _ . He stands there for at least a minute. Maybe two, he doesn’t really know. All he knows in this moment is the sweet  _ sweet _ release of emptying a bulging bladder.

Stiles cleans up and is out the door with a relieved breath. He heads out to find Derek and mostly apologize to him—key word being mostly.

Stiles finds the books stacked neatly and Derek reading Jane Austen—it was Laura’s collection—in his bed.  _ Their _ bed, Stiles reaffirms. Stiles crawls on the bed and settles next to him. He knocks his knee into Derek’s “I’m sorry. I blew everything out of proportion and I’m sorry. I was just so  _ mad _ that you bit Jackson.  _ Jackson _ of all people. Oh and he’s  _ definitely  _ the Kanima. Not that that’s your fault. Jackson is the fucked up one here. Just saying.”

Derek closes his book and puts it on the nightstand. He settles back against the headboard, next to Stiles, and simply says “Okay.”

“Okay.  _ Okay? _ You should be mad, at least a little. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine. I didn’t like that you—you didn’t want to—to talk it out. With me.”

Stiles throws his limbs out as he tries to sit straighter and face Derek “I did. I do! I mean, I was mad in the moment, but I wanted to ask questions. I did, I just...I was so mad and I felt—” Stiles lets out an annoyed laugh and continues “I felt betrayed. ‘Cause Jackson is on that side” Stiles throws a hand in front of him “and I’m over hear, hating him.”

“I’m sorry. Stiles, I’m sorry I did that. I regretted it the moment I did it. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. In the end we love each other and now we know who the Kanima is. We just gotta find out who the  _ master _ is. You know that’s like  _ super _ kinky. When I saw master I was like...do they do nasty stuff? They don’t, but...yeah.”

Derek nods to the stacked books and tomes and says “The books you had open are on the top and I book marked where you were.”

Stiles kisses Derek and says “I love and appreciate you endlessly.”

Then they cuddle, all wrapped around each other. They’ll think about this shit later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good, bad? Tell me. Or not. Totally don't have to.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is overdramatic, I don't know why I've made him so dramatic. And then it's somewhat canon for a little while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not that long, but suspenseful. Kind of. No coffee on this one.

Stiles is already nursing a cup of steaming coffee at the counter when Derek stumbles in half dressed and very sleepy.

He wraps his arms around Stiles and rests his head on his shoulder, breathing in his scent. He mouths at his throat and says “I smelt coffee.”

Stiles nods with a smile “Mhmm. You want some?” He holds the mug up as an offering.

Derek rises and shakes his head, taking in a deep breath he says “No. No, I’ll get my own.” Stiles hears the clanking of pots and pans as Derek’s in the kitchen. A moment later he hears “Eggs?”

Stiles jumps up from his seat—completely forgetting about his coffee. He rushes to the counter where Derek’s assembling some ingredients and says “Can you mix the eggs and put a shitton of cheese in there so it’s all cheesy and fucking delicious? Please.”

Derek sets a grater and a block of cheese in front of Stiles and says “Shred.” Stiles gets to work, he doesn’t need to be told twice. When he shreds a significant amount and Derek has mixed the eggs, he asks “How much are you making?”

Stiles’ smile widens and he says “Oh no, this is barely half.”

Derek nods his head with resignation and smiles “Okay.”

After a while, Stiles excitedly says “Done!”

Derek shoots up from his slumped—half asleep/half awake—position and says “I’m up. I’m up.” in quick succession.

Stiles smiles and says “Sure you are, Wolfy. Here.” He pushes the bowl of cheese toward Derek.

Derek’s eyes widen minutely in realization “Okay.” He dumps the cheese in and mixes that shit up real good, and then he puts onions, mushrooms, and bits of bacon in the bowl. He pours the mixture into the sizzling pan and begins cooking. Five seconds later Stiles swats his hands away saying “No. No. No. You’re doing it all wrong. Move.” He goes around the counter and starts cooking the eggs. Derek just takes Stiles’ seat.

As Stiles is pouring cheesy eggs into bowls, Derek starts “So about Jackson…” and that’s all he’s got.

Stiles lifts a brow “What about Jackson?”

“What are we gonna do?”

“We’re going to follow Jackson to make sure it is him and then see if he leads us to his master and...yeah.”

Derek pulls the bowl Stiles sets in front of him closer and says “We’re as in me and you or…?”

“I mean, I meant me and you, but...I don’t know.”

“When?”

“Uh...tonight? Friday? I don’t know.”

“And what if he tries to attack us. Do I go straight for the kill or…?”

“No, because it’s still Jackson and I guess he’s still kinda your beta. We’ll keep him somewhere while I figure out how to turn him back. I don’t know.”

“Where we had Scott?”

“Yeah, but we gotta do something with that tail. We gotta tie that shit down or something. We are _not_ about to have a rampant Kanima running around this building.”

Derek huffs a laugh.

“I’m not kidding. I’d cut it off but...it’s apart of him and I don’t know Kanima anatomy.”

Derek finishes his bowl and starts walking to the sink. Stiles pulls the spoon out of his mouth and says “Where are you going?”

Derek smiles and says “To the sink.” he puts his bowl in the sink, rinsed it, and turns to Stiles “Now finish your food.”

“Okay, Daddy.” The moment it comes out of Stiles’ mouth, he knows he made a mistake. He says “Oh, god. No—I—” Stiles is halfway standing from his chair when his stomach empties itself across the counter.

Derek’s eyes widen even more. He rushes to Stiles’ side in a slight panic. He grabs a napkin from the counter and hands it to him, he asks “Are you okay? What happened?”

Stiles wipes his mouth and shakes his head, “No. I—I just—Incest grosses me out.” He looks at the vomit and mutters “A lot.”

“Yeah...did you even eat that much?”

“Well, remember this morning, at four, we came out here?”

“Yeah.”

Stiles groans and gets up to throw the napkin away. Derek asks “What?”

Stiles groans again as he turns the water on and starts washing his mouth out while giving Derek a 

garbled reply, “I have school, Derek.”

“Or you can _not_ have school.”

Stiles turns off the water and stares at Derek, after a moment he says “Do you want me to drop out?”

Derek’s eyebrows raise, he says uncertainly, “No.”

“No?” Stiles rolls his eyes, “I can’t deal with this right now.” He storms off into their room and shouts after a moment, “And I have to wear your clothes because I have nothing here!”

He grabs some grey sweats, a green, clean shirt, and some socks. He looks at the clock on his phone and has a small heart attack—it’s almost seven and he has to be to school by 7:15. He thinks, if he speeds, he’ll get there. He throws everything on in a rush, grabs his backpack and his keys. He’s probably on the second floor when he starts thinking he grabbed the wrong keys, every step the keys get lighter and seems to transform into another shape. He’s nearly out the door when he opens his hand, he yells out “Fuck.” and checks the clock—7:03. Fuck. He doesn’t have time, after a hesitant moment, he’s out the door with a small, “I’m sorry.”

~

Derek cleaned up the mess on the counter and took a shower. He honestly thought the smell permeated his clothing. Then he went for a run in the woods to get all the stuff out of his system. Now he’s standing at the counter thinking about this morning.

Derek takes a seat and helplessly lets out “What the fuck did I do?”

“He thought you were trapping him. He felt cornered.”

Derek growls, low and warning, “What do you want.”

“Oh, Nephew, come on. You should have bitten him already. That’s my biggest regret. Among others.”

He growls “Leave.”

“Derek, don’t be like that. I’m the only family you have left.”

“I have Cora.” Even Derek can hear the lie. The way his voice quivers in uncertainty.

Peter smiles, “Where is she, Derek?”

Derek’s beta shift drops “You know where she is.”

“I do. I also know she got away from you as fast as she could.”

“She got away from Beacon Hills.”

“Oh, no more self-blame. He’s done a number on you.”

Derek growls, “He cares.”

“I care.”

They both start laughing.

Peter comes closer and says “We’re so fucked up.”

“Yeah…” after the laughter stops he asks “But really, why are you here?”

“Boyd and Erica never showed up last night.” 

“You’re sure.”

“Yepe. I haven’t slept in two days.”

“Fuck.” He starts pacing back and forth, “Shouldn’t I have felt their pain, Peter?”

“Maybe they haven’t been hurt.”

Derek laughs bitterly, “Right.” After a moment he says “Right. They haven’t turned up dead for a reason. They want something.” He turns back to Peter, “Check their houses?”

“I wanted to tell you first.”

Derek nods.

Before Peter leaves, he asks, “Derek?” Derek turns around “I do think it’s Gerard.”

“I know.”

Before Peter turns to leave, he says something, “I’d do something.”

Derek drags a hand over his face and turns back around to Peter, “And what would you do, Peter?”

Peter grins, Derek’s already regretting this, “Take the girl.”

Derek shakes his head and turns back around. With an authoritative, “Check their houses.” Derek sends Peter on his way. Although, Peter does keep in mind that Derek did, explicitly, say no.

~

Peter comes back, a bit more panicked than before. Derek doesn’t like it.

“Stiles is gone. He took him. I could smell wolfsbane and death. It _is_ him.”

Derek crushes the glass he was holding, picks up the skillet he had previously used, and throws it out the window to his left. He lets both hands heal before he turns around to face reality. He makes the red leave his eyes, as well.

When Derek turns around, Peter takes three steps back at the amount of rage pouring off from the Alpha in front of him, in waves.

He gives one order. One single order, “Take the girl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks...


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles was kidnapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not what I wanted, but close.

Stiles wakes up on a cold, hard, and wet floor. Everything hurts and there’s a buzzing sound coming from the right. He can’t really pinpoint exactly _where_ he’s in pain, but his head and ribs hurt a little bit _more_ than everything else. His hands are piled behind his back and his ankles are tied together. Stiles attempts to pull at them and he lets out a small whimper of pain.

”Stiles?” It’s a scratchy and raw voice. It’s Erica. _Fuck_.

Stiles starts to move his head but stops, he says, “Erica?”

”Yeah, it’s me and Boyd.”

”Where are we?”

Boyd growls, ”Gerard.”

Oh no. This isn’t okay. It isn’t fine. Here comes the headache. Stiles says, “Derek will find us. He’ll realize we’re missing” He has to.

”What if he doesn’t?”

”He will.” Stiles just wants to go back to a painless sleep.

They all hear a door open and close. No one speaks, then there’s a gasp.

Allison knew Gerard was hiding something down here, but people...she shakes her head in disgust as she comes down the stairs and sees it, she gasps. She sees Erica and Boyd suspended on an electrified fence, reminding her of that day Kate brought her to see Derek. She rushes over to them, searching for the controls. She finds them and turns it off with a sigh. Both wolves sigh in relief as their wounds begin to heal.

Above their heads they hear the front door shut loudly. Allison helps Boyd take Erica down, whispering sorry after sorry. She pushes them toward the back and tells them to leave, now. She tells them to stick to the back of the houses until they reach Stiles’ house. Boyd and Erica try to say something, but Allison just opens the back door and pushes them out. They’re still pretty weak, so they disappear into the woods, hoping Allison helps Stiles. Knowing there’s nothing they could do in this state.

A chill goes down her spine when she hears a haggard cough. She turns around and doesn’t immediately see him. She sees a mass hidden by shadows. As she comes closer, it becomes clear that it’s a body. Stiles. That’s what they were trying to say. _Shit_. She really fucked up this time. There’s another cough and then a small, “Erica, Boyd?” It breaks her heart.

She goes to him and sees that he’s tied by his feet and hands. She says, “Stiles, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” and gets up to find a knife near the control panels. As she’s walking back to Stiles she hears thudding steps coming toward the basement door. She runs to Stiles and puts the knife in his sleeve and says, “Hold onto it and don’t let anyone see it. Gerards coming. Please don’t die.” She adds, “Just pretend to be asleep.”

The thuds get closer and Allison looks around the room. She needs to make it look like they broke out. She finds a wrench and hits herself in the face until she’s bleeding and has a huge black eye forming. She then goes to the door and leaves it open a crack. She hears the basement door open. She runs to the fence and pulls, it comes crashing down, the wires coming out from the machines. She rushes to the control panel and leans over it panting and holding her face for show. She turns the knob to how it was and throws a knife to the floor because she used one to get Erica and Boyd down. Hopefully, Gerard doesn’t question anything.

She hears him come down the stairs and survey the room. She hears him walk toward Stiles and kick him. She cringes at the absence of a sound, he probably passed out again. Derek is going to kill her. Then he comes to her and grabs her shoulder, turning her around harshly. It makes her eyes swim in nausea. She doesn’t quite register what he says initially, then it’s louder and makes her head hurt, “Where are they!” He’s snarling in her face like an animal.

She says, “I heard something crash and came down. I tried to stop them but they hit me and ran off into the woods. But they forgot Stiles.” _She_ forgot Stiles. If she had just _listened_ to them, Stiles would be okay.

Gerards grip loosens and he puts a hand on the side of her face to survey the damage. She sucks in a breath as he prods at her face. He pulls back and says, “He really did a number on you.”

He? Sexist bastard. She asks, “He? It was Erica.” Because women can hit people. Women can _kill_. It’s in that moment that she realizes: she’s going to kill this man. She doesn’t know how, but she knows it’s going to be gruesome and painful.

He looks at the fence and says, “Okay, clean this up and then head up stairs to clean yourself up; dinner’s nearly done.”

”Okay, Grandpa.” It’s acid on her tongue. And not the good kind. Fucking douchebag. As she cleans up the mess she’d made, she wonders...what if she pulled out all his teeth and fingernails. Then like...gutted him. Yeah...that sounds nice. Maybe put some aconite in there, mix it around a bit.

Her father brings her out of her thoughts, “Allison, honey, what...oh, dear god, what has he done.” He rushes to Allison and cups her face.

Allison pushes the hand away, “No, no, I did this to myself. Gerard had Erica and Boyd. Stiles is still here.”

”What? Where?” Allison points over his shoulder.

They both go over to him, “What happened?”

Allison grabs the knife she’d stuffed up his sleeves and begins cutting, “I knew he had something down here so I came to look. Erica and Boyd were on the fence. I cut them down and made them leave, but they were trying to tell me something. I just wanted them out, but Stiles was still here. Someone came through the front door so I put a knife up Stiles’ sleeve, and hit myself with a wrench, then I pulled the fence down. I turned the knob to where it was and threw a knife down so it looked like they’d cut themselves out. I told him they’d ran into the woods, but I told them to go to Stiles’ house.” She pockets the knife and turns him over so he’s lying flat and face up. He looks terrible. She mutters, “Derek’s going to kill us.”

’No,” Chris shakes his head, “He’s going to kill Gerard.”

Allison starts, “But I—” but stops, she probably shouldn't say that to her father.

”What, Sweetheart?”

She shakes her head, “Nothing, I just really want to get Stiles out of here.”

Chris nods, “Gerard is in the garage. Take him and leave. Take my car, here.” He pulls out his keys and hands them to her, “I’ll tell him that you’re down here watching him and I’ll make sure they go into the woods to look for the other two. Can you get him?”

”Yeah, I think.” She lifts him up and puts his arm around her. She looks up at her father and says, “Yeah, I got it.” She shuffles off and out the back door. She puts Stiles in the back, laying him down flat. She gets into the front and pulls the keys out of her pocket, she starts the car and pulls out quietly, heading for Lydia’s.

~

Lydia opens the door to a distressed Allison, “Allison—”

”Come here.” Lydia follows.

”What the fuck, Allison.”

”Please just help me get him inside. I didn’t know where else to go.”

She’s not _that_ snobbish, “Okay, fine.”

”When I get him out, close the door and then grab his legs. Shit, are your parents here?”

Lydia laughs bitterly, “They never are, we’re good.” As they enter the house, Lydia says, “Go to the left, the living room.”

After Stiles is settled Lydia asks, “What do we do now?”

”I think we wait for him to wake up. Or for my dad to call.” She shudders, “Or Derek.”

There’s a knock.

”I’m not here.”

”Your truck is outside.”

Lydia walks to the door and opens it, it’s Peter. Lydia rolls her eyes, “What do you want?”

He pushes inside and follows the scent of his Alpha’s Mate. He tells Allison to get in the car and picks Stiles up, taking what pain he can. Derek is gonna be _so_ mad. Allison follows him out.

Peter looks into the rear-view mirror and sees Lydia, “Get out.”

”Nope.”

”This is serious, Lydia.”

She says it with a smile, ”Exactly why I’m _not_ moving an inch.” She adds with a shooing motion, “Start the car, Wolfie.”

He starts the car.

As they’re driving, Allison says, “Erica and Boyd are at Stiles’ house. I told them to go there.” A few moments later, Allison’s phone starts ringing. She answers, it’s Chris, “Hey, Dad. Your truck is at Lydia’s. No. Peter. It’s fine. Okay, I’ll be there.” She pockets her phone and turns to Peter, “Is there any way you can get to my house in the next ten minutes, Gerards coming back and if I’m not there...So can you?”

Peter doesn’t like this, but he brings her home, nevertheless.

When Allison goes inside, Peter asks Lydia, “Do you want me to take you home...or…”

Lydia makes a face and huffs in outrage, “ _No_. I’m going with you guys to Derek’s. Now lets go get Erica and Boyd.”

~

Erica and Boyd are hiding in the shed.

When they all pile in the car again, Lydia is up front with Peter, while the others are in the back, taking Stiles’ pain.

Derek is livid when sees Stiles. He takes a still passed out Stiles and brings him to their room. He cleans him up and puts him in new clothes. Once Stiles is sufficiently comfortable and breathing more freely, Stiles tells everyone to come inside, even Lydia, because he isn’t leaving Stiles until he’s better.

The first question he has is for Peter, “Why’d you bring her?”

Lydia rolls her eyes, “I made him take me with them. I’m not missing out.” 

Peter nods, “She’s very intimidating, for a human.” Lydia smiles at the compliment.

Derek rolls his eyes. He settles in next to Stiles and asks, “Tell me what happened.”

First, it’s Erica and Boyd, describing what happened, then Lydia telling him, then Peter telling him that he dropped Allison off at home. Then everyone is startled when Stiles speaks.

“Allison hit herself in the face with a wrench six times, so it looked like she was attacked. She told them Erica and Boyd had went into the woods, then Chris lead a hunting group away from them.” He adds a moment later, “And she’s probably going to do something so it looks like you guys came and got me. Hopefully, she just lays on the ground and feigns unconsciousness.”

Derek speaks up with authority, “This won’t continue.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.  
> Any mistakes, let me know.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's kinda short. Sorry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was _not_ sure if I was gonna like how this little skitch went. No, but seriously, it's short.

As Allison closes the back door to the basement, her phone chimes with a text. It’s her father, letting her know that they’re back. Her eyes widen as she thinks of something to do. 

She looks at the spot Stiles had been at and pictures it. Derek bursting in, what would he do, his betas would be behind him. So, he would potentially rush to Stiles, he might send Peter to her. He’d kill her, so that’s off the list. He could send Erica and Boyd to keep watch and shit. Isaac would go to her. He’d probably just...knock her out, maybe choke her out...okay. She should stop thinking about Isaac for five seconds.

She hears the backdoor open and nearly has a heart attack.

She looks around the room. The spot next to the electric machine seems perfect. She goes to the wall diagonal from his position and slides down it as if she’d been thrown against it—or even choked out against it. She pulls the knife from her pocket and settles it loosely in her hand, letting it go limp as she hears the basement door open.

Hands grab at her face and she, immediately, knows it’s her father, but she doesn’t immediately ‘wake up’ because she can also hear other man, along with her grandfather, guessing what happened. She can also hear some of them laughing at her and calling her weak.

Her eyes open and she takes in a lungful, she fakes terror, “Dad!” She wraps her arms around him and whispers, “Nothing happened.” She says louder, “I was so scared, there were so many, Dad.” She pulls back and brings the knife up, saying, “I grabbed the knife, but I was too slow and then the wall and I couldn’t breathe,” she starts tearing up, “I’m so sorry.” now full on crying, partially real because she realizes that her neck should probably be at least red and it’s not. What if Gerard notices?

Chris plays along, not really knowing what to expect, and helps her up, he tells Gerard, “I’m gonna take her up to bed.” Allison keeps a hand on her throat, holding it as if it hurt so no one would see the lack of color.

As they’re going to her room her mother rushes over and pushes Chris and Allison’s hands away. She doesn’t notice at first, but then something changes. Victoria looks at Allison, then to Chris. She doesn’t say anything and Allison is terrified. She looks toward the basement door and then pulls away, she says, “Don’t get caught.” and heads down to the basement. They hear her tell them to come eat and finally begin walking to her room.

Chris closes the door and comes and sits next to Allison on the edge of her bed, “What...happened? Where’s Stiles?”

“He’s with Derek now. He’s with Derek.” She turns to him quickly, “Does he suspect anything? Do either of them?”

Chris shakes his head, “No, I don’t think so. But you never know. They could already know and be playing us right now.”

She doesn’t want to ask, but… “Will Mom—will she say something? To them?”

Chris looks at her more fully, with a broken expression he says, “Oh, sweetheart. Your mom would die for you to live.” He pulls her into a hug as she lets a few tears escape.

There’s an almost silent knock and then a sickly-sweet, “Allison. You okay?” The two quickly pull apart as Allison’s bedroom door swings open with an eerie creak, revealing Kate.

Kate glances at the both of them and then settles her eyes on Allison, “Are you alright, kid?” She comes closer, “We’re gonna kill every last one of those animals. They’ll never touch you again.” Then she’s up and closing the door in a breeze.

Allison turns to her dad, “Well that was easy.”

Chris quirks his lip and shakes his head, he gets up and puts a hand on her shoulder. His voice is grave and tense, “Maybe too easy.” Then he’s leaving an uneasy Allison to stew. She wonders if Stiles is okay.. And Erica and Boyd. And Derek. He must be flipping out over Stiles. And Lydia.

~

Soon after Stiles recants his view, he falls asleep again and the rest disperse around the loft. Derek stays next to Stiles. After Boyd and Erica shower, Boyd and Isaac start on dinner. They’re just making steak and mashed potatoes because they’ve had a shit day. Erica’s in the kitchen with the two betas, but she’s making cupcakes because that was what her mom and her always did when it was a bad one. Peter had enticed Lydia with the mention of some supernatural books and she had immediately followed him. Now they’re sitting next to each other and exchanging views on supernatural and non-supernatural topics. They’re totally flirting. In an intellectual kind of way.

Erica comes to get Derek and Stiles for dinner, she gives Stiles a cupcake when he gets out of bed. Derek rolls his eyes and says, “Erica, he doesn’t need that right now. Dinner’s done.”

Erica shrugs and as she walks out she says, “He deserves a fucking cupcake, Derek, lighten up.”

Derek just shakes his head, he looks at Stiles. Stiles sees Derek looking at him and quickly shoves the cupcake in his mouth. Derek’s smile widens as he looks at the puffed cheeks, Stiles is the most precious thing he’s ever held. He couldn’t let him go.

Stiles swipes a hand across his mouth and licks the frosting he’d collected from his wrist, he’s thankful Erica had taken the wrapper off, that would have taken longer. He shrugs and smiles as he says, “What? I thought you were gonna take it from me.”

Derek rolls his eyes fondly and says, “Lets go, dinner’s ready.” His voice becomes serious, “And you haven’t eaten in a while.”

Stiles swallows the last remnants of fluffy cake and says, “Yeah.” Because what else does he say? They both know he was kidnapped and yeah, he hasn’t eaten in a while, he’s fucking hungry,. “I’m fucking hungry.” Then he’s off to the kitchen.

When Stiles comes down the stairs he sees Lydia, “Lydia!” He goes up to her, somewhat confused, “You’re still here.”

“Your...Peter. He offered to show me some books.”

Stiles makes a face, “Don’t ever say ‘your Peter’. Ever.”

Lydia nods and turns back to the counter, then she’s placing a plate full of mashed potatoes and steak in his hands. He moans, “Oh my god, you’re a saint.” then he’s walking over to the table and digging in. Halfway through he mumbles out a thank you to whoever made it, but that’s all he contributes the rest of dinner. He doesn’t really want to say anything, he just wants to not be in pain every time he moves a certain way.

Once dinner’s over, he finds the cupcakes sitting, in rows of twelve, on the counter. Everyone is still at the table so he grabs two rectangular tupperware and stuffs in four of the seven rows. Then reconsiders and piles in half of another row. What? It’s not like he’s actually gonna eat them all. Leave him alone.

Derek finds Stiles a quarter of the way through the second container and Stiles looks like he’s about to pass out. He lists, “Jackson, Gerard. I need your input.”

Stiles takes the cupcake he was about to shove down his throat and sets it in the wrapper, then reconsiders and just eats it. Derek and his bullshit can wait. He swallows and wipes at his mouth, after he licks his thumb and fingers sort of clean, he asks, “Can we _please_ do this in the morning. I really just want to fill myself full of cupcakes and snuggle up with you. And sleep. And not go to school tomorrow. Or the next week.” He gives Derek a look and says, “Don’t say a goddamn thing, Derek.” A second later, the seriousness is gone and he shuffles across the bed and flutters his lashes and pouts his lip, “Please?” his lashes flutter once more, “With a blow job on top.”

Derek’s eyes go red at the thought of giving Stiles another treat. When Derek starts pulling at his shirt, Stiles backs up with wild grin. He can take a little more pain. All the cupcakes are gone by morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me if you like how it's going so far.
> 
> Also, thanks for reading and such.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles gets his shit and Gerard's first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...it's been a minute. I'm pretty sure I failed the SAT so that's fine. I'm like _super_ sorry it's been so long. I'm just so overwhelmed and stressed out. And I've been like _way_ more homicidal as of late, so that's been fun. I'm just like really sorry this isn't long enough or plot-ty enough. But it's getting there. Gerards gonna die soon. It's coming.
> 
>  
> 
> Be patient.

“So. Gerard and Jackson.” Stiles rolls his eyes and pulls his coffee closer to himself with a small groan. 

“You’re still on this.” He twists around and groans, this time, in pain, “I hurt in all the wrong places, mostly.” he gives a lopsided smirk and continues, “Can we just...wait until it goes away?” 

“No.” Derek comes to stand behind Stiles, leeching away the pain. 

Stiles smiles wryly into his coffee cup, “Not even gonna humor me, Sourwolf?” 

Derek huffs with no amusement and walks to the counter, saying, “No. You were kidnapped yesterday. Stiles...I don’t know...” 

Stiles takes a sip and says, “The kanima’s master is afraid of water.” He takes a _long_ sip this time, “We need to kill Gerard first. He’s dangerous to us specifically. The kanama is killing whoever is on its master’s agenda.” Another sip. 

Derek pours coffee into a chipped mug that has ‘best bro’ scrawled across it and pours _at least_ a pound of sugar into it. Stiles cringes. Derek brings the mug of diabetes over and settles into the chair next to Stiles. He asks “How do you propose this is...dealt with?” 

Stiles smiles into his coffee. “I have a few ideas.” 

Derek smiles. “A few.” 

His smile falls as he sobers up, “We need Allison. Maybe even Chris.” he quickly reconsiders, “We’re definitely gonna need Chris.” 

Stiles finishes his coffee and straightens, “We kill Gerard and then deal with the kanima. Then it’s over.” He stands up with his empty cup. As he—stiltedly—walks toward the sink, he lowly mutters “For now.” 

Derek nods somberly at that because it’s true. Who knows what’ll be thrown at them next time? 

~ 

Stiles walks into the kitchen and climbs into Derek’s lap. He doesn’t falter in the conversation, though Erica does coo, loudly, at Stiles and Derek. After he finishes telling Boyd about the bread his grandmother would always make and the couple heads up the stairs, he talks into Stiles’ shoulder, “You’re supposed to be in bed, healing.” by the end it’s more of a growl. 

Stiles whines and playfully nips at Derek’s jaw, “I’m better now. You took the worst of it away with your werewolf-voodoo. My ribs are just sore and it’s just a light throb in my head now. It’s better, Derek. I just need a little pain leech and I’ll be perfect.” After a begrudged nod from Derek Stiles gets to business. “Now, I need clothes and...things. So if you even try to bring up _things_...” He bursts, “No sex! No sexual intercourse. Nada.” 

Derek is quick to nod in agreement. “I won’t say anything, but you were supposed to be in bed all day. With me.”He clarifies “Non-sexually.” 

Stiles smiles, “Don’t worry, Sourwolf, your hands will be on me the entire time.” He’s quick to add “Leeching pain.” 

Derek sighs, “Okay, let’s go.” 

~ 

Stiles assures Derek that the Sheriff won’t be at the house on their way there. Derek still listens for a heartbeat before following Stiles into the house. 

Derek settles himself on Stiles’ bed as he watches Stiles rummage through drawers and his closet and soon there’s a giant, accumulating, pile of what Stiles is taking with him in Derek’s lap. As Stiles heads back into his closet, Derek clears his throat and asks “So...that school thing. I’m sorry if I—” 

“No!” Stiles bursts. “No.” He comes closer to Derek and says, “That was on me. I was already late for school and on edge and then you said that and I just got…” He sighs. “I’m sorry. I know you’d be with me regardless of my education. But I _am_ graduating and majoring in CS. That’s decided. Just to be clear.” 

Derek smiles. “Just to be clear, I’m paying for it.” 

Stiles pushes at Derek’s shoulder, with his index finger, until he’s on his back, then he climbs on top of Derek and settles against a warm body under all the clothes. He makes sure to have his skin touch Derek’s so he can get a little relief. He says “I would argue, just to be polite, but college is expensive and you’re what…? A millionaire?” 

Derek shrugs and says “Mas o menos.” Then he smiles. Stiles whacks him and gets up, ready to go, mostly. 

He trudges into the bathroom and comes out with two pill bottles and a toothbrush. Derek gives him a questioning look. Stiles holds up one bottle. “Back-up adderall.” He holds up the other bottle. “Back-up antipsychotics.” Before Derek can say anything, Stiles shakes his head. “Don’t ask.” 

He really wants to ask. He says “I won’t. Today.” 

Stiles’ shoulders sag in defeat. He nods, “I’ll give you that.” He walks over to the mess of his closet and pulls a blue hoodie out from under his other non-essentials. He puts it on and grabs the pills from the floor and slides them into the pocket in the front of his navy-blue hoodie. Stiles looks to Derek. “You ready?” 

Derek shoots back “Are you?” 

Stiles looks down with a huff of amusement. He looks back up. “Yeah, Big Guy, I’m ready.” 

Stiles grabs the trash bag he’d thrown on the ground and wonders why he hadn’t just had Derek hold it open for him earlier. Nevertheless, they fill the bag and load up the camaro’s backseat. Stiles has his pillow with himself, in the front. 

Once they’re a fair distance away from the house, Derek asks “How come I didn’t know?” 

Stiles sighs as he drags his gaze away from the passing scenery. “You said you wouldn’t. Not today.” 

“This is important.” 

Stiles shakes his head and returns his eyes back to the passing buildings. “It really isn’t.” 

“Stiles—” 

“Just drop it, Derek.” He adds “Please.” almost desperately. 

Derek shakes his head. “It’s not something we can just brush under the rug, Stiles.” 

“Derek, I don’t wanna talk about this. Not right now. I can’t.” Stiles looks at Derek, pleadingly. “Later, please.” He starts turning toward the window. “I’ll tell you at home.” 

Derek doesn’t speak the rest of the ride. The fact that Stiles called the loft home or because Derek had definitely hit a sore spot, he doesn’t know which kept him silent. All he knows is that Stiles’ well-being comes before everything else. Before Gerard. Before the Kanama and its master. And especially before Derek’s demands. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things I should tell you:
> 
>   * So you know in the show how he fixed Cora, took all her ailings away? Well that's what he does with Stiles in this. With his Alpha spark. But it doesn't, in any way, harm his Alpha-ness. He's still 100%. 
>   * You'll probably find out about the pills in the next one. 
>   * But I really want Gerard killed in the next one so it may turn into two so it may take longer. 
>   * Also. Stiles likes his coffee black. Derek likes his with a shitton of sugar. 
> 

> 
> That's it. Bye.
> 
>  
> 
> P.S. Thanks for reading.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A thing happens.

Derek pulls into the parking lot and cuts the engine. Neither of them make a move to get out. 

It’s another five minutes before Derek says something. “Stiles…” 

“Are they here?” 

Derek listens and says “I could tell them to leave.” 

Stiles asks “So they’re all here, then?” 

Derek gives him an odd look. “Yes.” 

“Okay.” Then Stiles is pulling his bag from the backseat and hauling all of his shit through the doors. 

When they walk through the door to the loft, Derek’s holding Stiles’ bag and Stiles grips his pillow tightly, a significant and tense distance between them. Derek doesn’t know why Stiles is acting so strange. 

Everyone’s sitting in the living room. After a moment of contemplation, Stiles walks over and stands in front of the T.V.. Derek just carries the bag with him as he settles, facing Stiles, on the arm of the love seat. He tries to send Stiles a reassuring smile or look, but he won’t look at Derek. Stiles is looking at everyone but him with determined and guarded eyes. 

Once Stiles is sure all eyes and ears are on him, he says “I take antipsychotics because I tend to hallucinate without them. That’s it.” Just as brusk and, Stiles leaves the room, heading up the stairs with his pillow clutched to his chest. 

He doesn’t go to Derek’s room because it’s _Derek’s_ room. Instead, he goes into the bathroom, carefully setting his pillow on the toilet seat, and stares at himself in the mirror, he doesn’t look like himself. He knows he needs to take his pills before he starts hearing things. He pulls out the bottle, uncaps it, and tips it into his palm. He swallows them down, dry, and puts the cap back on. He grips the bottle tightly and sits on the floor, back against the shower as he pulls his pillow into his lap. He’s just gonna wait in here until it’s silent again. Stiles doesn’t know how Derek will react, last time someone found out...He doesn’t tell people these things for a reason. 

_You’re not hallucinating, Stiles. You’ve never hallucinated, not me._ Then there’s an uproar of echoing laughter, swirling around his head, jumbling his thoughts and freezing him to the spot. He’s stiltedly crawling across the bathroom floor as the laughs turn to jagged edges down his back. That’s when he realizes he must have taken adderall. It takes three tries to get the bottle in his hand. Even when he’s swallowed his meds, he’s still trying to ignore that voice in his head—and the laughing, it’s exhausting. Then there’s banging—that’s new. He knows that he’s not moving, not really, but his head doesn’t know that. He just wishes it was a little less messy. He starts muttering “Shut up.” over and over again under his breath, so quickly it soon becomes a jumbled mumble of barely audible english. 

Soon the voices and laughs disappear and it’s this constant banging, he thinks the voices might be coming back too. He drags his hands down his scalp, harshly, pulling at his hair. His words are becoming more clear and soon he’s shouting “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” as he hits himself in the side of his head because it won’t stop and he just wants some peace and quiet. 

Then something odd happens. There’s a hand gripping his wrist and one holding his face with the other. There’s just a voice. Derek. Stiles breathes and it’s quiet. 

They both stare at the other. “I’m sorry.” they say in unison. 

Derek shakes his head. “No, I could see how didn’t want to do this and I forced you.” Derek brings Stiles’ hand to his mouth and kisses his knuckles, one-by-one. 

Stiles reluctantly pulls away from Derek and stands up, he ignores the hurt look on Derek’s face. He makes his way to the sink and turns on the water. He tells Derek “It—This wasn’t—” He shakes his head and looks at his reddening hands under the hot water, as if they were the most interesting things in the room. He finally says “I had an episode.” He says it so quietly, Derek was sure he hadn’t actually heard anything. But he did. 

Derek doesn’t know what to say. “I don’t know what to say, Stiles. I...do you want to—” 

“No.” Stiles says, quickly turning the faucet off and leaving the room. 

Stiles goes down to the kitchen and pulls out a box of cookies and throws a bowl of mashed potatoes in the microwave. He settles into his seat at the counter and opens the package. He knows Derek wants to help. He knows that now, he knows Derek wants to understand, but Stiles can’t...he just can’t. Other than today, he’d never acknowledged his issues outloud since he was in elementary. So he really can’t deal with anybody, let alone their questions. Then they have to kill Gerard...he really fucking hates people, everything, really. His life is just some pathetic joke. But it’s one of those jokes you laugh at to be polite because it’s such shit. That’s his life. A shitty joke. 

Erica walks in from the living room. “Cookies!” She says excitedly. 

Stiles groans internally, struggling to hold back the uncalled for words trying to come out. He knows she's trying to be nice, but he just can't. Instead of damaging his relationship with Erica, he takes all but one cookie and takes the mashed potatoes out of the microwave, he couldn’t care less if they were still a little cold. Then he starts walking toward the stairs. He clenches and grinds his teeth together as he hears Erica try and talk to him. He knows he’s not okay, but he couldn’t care any less. The only person he might let come near him is Derek, but even then he feels like it’s a fifty-fifty chance of cussing him out and bursting into tears. He doesn’t know which one he’d prefer for his sake. 

It feels like every episode gets worse. He knows, logically, that’s not how it works, but he can’t help it. He’s just thankful his hallucinations are mostly auditory. 

He heads into Derek’s— _their_ room and Derek’s sitting on the edge of the bed. His head is in his hands and now he knows what reaction Derek’s gonna get. Derek looks up when Stiles kicks the door closed. Stiles sits down next to him. “Cookie?” he offers. Derek doesn’t know what to say, so he takes the cookie. 

Derek offers “Erica’s throwing a fit.” 

“Don’t care.” as he bites into another cookie. 

Derek turns fully to Stiles. “Stiles—” 

“Derek.” Stiles’ voice is pained and desperate, on the edge. 

Instead of saying what he really wants to say he asks “Want to watch something?” 

Stiles kicks off his shoes, as he’s changing into sweats, he says “Killing Eve or Blacklist.” 

“Hulu or Netflix?” 

Stiles pulls on a worn out t shirt and considers. “Netflix.” He decides. 

After a couple of episodes of The Blacklist, Stiles is talking more. After Stiles reaffirms that Red is one of the best parts of the show and that Dembe is literally his child, they start watching the second episode of season four. And Stiles hates Reddington for a brief moment, but he understands. What really fucks Stiles up is that he missed. He mutters “That shit ain’t happening with Gerard.” He turns to Derek seriously. “But for real. I need to see his body destroyed, like no going back destroyed.” That’s how it starts and by the end of the night they have a rough sketch of the plan. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and comments and such.

**Author's Note:**

> So...yeah.


End file.
